


Bear River Rendezvous

by bookscape



Category: Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea
Genre: Cache Valley Utah, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 18:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20262913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscape/pseuds/bookscape
Summary: Lee and Chip are ambushed by an old enemy in Sardine Pass and have to escape over the mountains just before a blizzard. Takes place after "I'll be Home for Christmas--Hopefully."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author’s notes:**

**This story is dedicated to the wonderful, kind people of Cache Valley, where this story is set. All the places are real, the people are representative of real persons I knew during the time I lived there, while I was working on my college degrees. Bear River Rendezvous came about from an incident that happened to me last Christmas when my husband and I were visiting our children in Logan. The same thing happened to our car as we were traveling up Sardine Pass back to our son’s house. However, a couple of very sweet and considerate people helped us out, letting us stay in their house, sample their Christmas goodies while the men figured out what was wrong with the car. We made it to my son’s house safely and after someone on the list said the incident should be put in a story, it began to percolate in my brain. The rest, as they say, is history. Some explanations are in order….**

**The culture: despite the fact that it’s all one country here in the U.S., there is a definite culture in the Intermountain West. I have made Chip’s wife a part of it by relationship, mainly to get our boys there. I am talking about the culture of the people of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or for those not familiar with the name, the Mormons. I have tried to be as objective as I can, since it’s mainly from Lee and Chip’s pov’s, but it’s hard to hide my affection for the people of Paradise and Cache Valley. They were very good to me the seven plus years that I lived there.**

**  
**

**With that in mind, I have tried to be true to the vernacular, the mind-set and the customs as I have told this story. When I have one of the characters refer to his Church friend, it’s Brother Mortensen, not Mister. And Home Teachers are church members, usually Elders, who look out for one another, especially during times of difficulty.**

**  
**

**The dog was based on one we had a few years back. He was never in Utah, but I have made him true to the nature of our dear departed doggy friend. I chose to put this story into three sections of several chapters each. **

**  
**

**  
**

**Takes place right after “I’ll Be Home for Christmas—Hopefully.”sue**

****

**  
**

**  
**

**Chapter 1**

**  
**

**For probably the tenth time in the past half hour, Captain Lee Crane gazed out the window of the large dining room at the cold, powdered sugar mountainside near Brigham City, Utah, even as he began working on the second half of a very large burger. The onion rings were already finished, having come out fresh from the fryer and straight to their table. He took a bite and then put the burger down.**

**  
**

**“You’ll have to admit, my wife’s aunt was right about this place,” Commander Chip Morton said between mouthfuls of his equally large burger. He purposefully ignored his friend’s anxious look.**

**  
**

**“Yes, she was, but don’t you think we need to get going?”**

**  
**

**“Lee, we have plenty of time. It’s only 1130 hours and they said it would take, at most, a couple of hours to get to Bear Lake from here.”**

**  
**

**“It’s two very high and winding canyons from here,” Crane replied tersely. He finished his coffee and laid the cup down with a contented sigh. “Have to admit, though, they make good coffee here.” He signaled the waitress for another cup. “From a fresh pot,” he instructed her.**

**  
**

**Chip said nothing, but smiled at his friend’s remark. It had been a sore point with Lee that he had not had coffee readily available the last couple of days. It had bothered Chip a bit, too, but he had been able to overlook it most of the time. When his wife’s Aunt Caroline had coaxed them and Lee to come out and spend New Year’s in northern Utah with that part of his wife’s extensive family, he had neglected to think there would be amenities not always accessible to the two submariners. Coffee was the main one.“I thought you wanted to leave soon,” Chip quipped.**

**  
**

**“I’m getting my supply of coffee, not knowing when I will get more.”**

**  
**

**Chip laughed, to his captain’s intense irritation. “You’re still sore about Caroline and Richard not having a coffee pot in their house.”**

**  
**

**“No, I’m not still sore about that, Chip….”**

**  
**

**“Oh?”**

**  
**

**Lee glared at his exec. “Okay, a little bit. But let’s face it, a person can only handle so many trips to MacDonald’s.”**

**  
**

**“It wasn’t that bad, Lee.”**

**  
**

**“_You_ aren’t the one who had to go out in sub-zero temperatures at 0600, either.”**

**  
**

**Chip chuckled softly. “I wasn’t the one having coffee withdrawals.”**

**  
**

**Crane just snorted as the waitress poured fresh coffee from a steaming pot. “Thanks,” he told her, his flashing smile for her belying his previous grumbling.**

**  
**

**“And you’ll have to admit, everyone was very nice at Caroline’s,” Chip added when the woman left.**

**  
**

**Lee nodded, a slight smile of his own. “Mmm, yes, they were and I also have to admit that the sites they took us to were much more impressive than I had figured they would be.”**

**  
**

**“What’s not impressive about downtown Salt Lake City in the winter?”**

**  
**

**Savoring his coffee with a sigh, Lee smiled more broadly, his equanimity restored. “Walking Temple Square in the snow did seem almost ethereal, what with all the lights and displays. If we’d just been left alone to take it all in.”**

**  
**

**“You mean all those missionaries,” Chip asked, chuckling at the memory of the eager young men and women. He knew Lee had been uncomfortable with the crowds at first, seeing as how he had been sentenced to a life in solitary confinement and only been freed less than a week ago.**

**  
**

**“Could have done without those,” came the murmured reply.**

**  
**

**Chip shrugged, deciding to play devil’s advocate. “Someone I know was regaling a visiting senator and his entourage earlier this year with the description and virtues of a certain submarine.”**

**  
**

**“Well, can’t help it if I am lucky enough to have the best boat in the world,” Crane reacted quickly.**

**  
**

**“Bingo.” Chip waited for a reaction. He wasn’t long in getting one. Lee looked puzzled, so Chip continued. “If someone believes they have the best of anything, they’re going to….”**

**  
**

**“Okay, I get the idea,” Lee interjected. He changed the subject. “But I still say we need to hit the road. I’d rather get to Bear Lake earlier than get surprised by an early snowstorm. Besides, the sooner we get there, the quicker you can cuddle up to your lovely wife who promised to have a fire waiting in that lake front cabin.”**

**  
**

**“Okay, Grandma. But you’re right, I’ll be able to give Nikki some loving while the rest of you peons prepare to bring in the New Year.” Chip caught the waitress’s attention. “Check, please.”**

**  
**

**“Uh, uh, you can do that while the ball drops, just like the rest of us,” Lee growled as he took another drink of his coffee.**

**  
**

**“You and who else? Nikki’s niece? She’s too young for you, m’bucko, even if she has the hots for you,” Chip smirked as he pulled out his credit card. He laughed at his friend’s flush of embarrassment.**

**  
**

**As though reading his mind, the waitress brought a box for the remainder of Lee’s burger as well as the check. The two men were still bantering even as Chip paid.**

**  
**

**“Going up Sardine Canyon?” the young, brown-haired woman behind the cash register asked.**

**  
**

**“Yes,” Crane replied, his eyes flicking at the road and mountains outside the large front window. “Something we should know?”**

**  
**

**“It’s in great shape. Snow’s been scraped away and the road’s been salted heavily.” She smiled reassuringly. “You won’t have any problems getting to Logan.”**

**  
**

**“That obvious?” Lee asked, looking a little embarrassed.**

**  
**

**“That you’re not from around here?” she asked. “I can understand how you feel. I was the same way the first year I lived out here.”**

**  
**

**“What’s crazy is that my partner, here, was born in Rhode Island,” Chip interjected. “New England cold winters and all that.”**

**  
**

**“Moved young and the mountains there could be hidden under a tea-cup,” Lee countered, his eyes raking Chip over a high temp grill.**

**  
**

**She laughed softly. “Well, it’s going to be a very uneventful drive through the canyon. Might even be able to see some deer, and the mountains are spectacular with snow on them. So have your cameras ready.”**

**  
**

**“I’ll hold you to that, ma’am,” Lee replied, returning her smile. He pulled on the new sheepskin lined coat that Nikki and Chip had bought for him for a late Christmas present.**

**  
**

**Chip had an identical one. He suspected that he might use his with some degree of frequency, what with the family he had married into, but Lee wouldn’t, except to visit the Sierras when he could be coaxed. The two men walked out to their rental car and Crane sighed. It appeared that he was only barely restraining himself from kicking the tire.**

**  
**

**“It’s just until we catch the plane in a couple of days, Lee,” Chip reassured his friend, at the same time empathizing completely. That the rental place only had a few cars left when they had flown in and that none of them could be considered the least bit stylish or even slightly classy had been a bitter enough pill to swallow. However, that it was a non-descript Aries K-car had rankled both men. After Lee’s recent ordeal in the People’s Republic, Chip had hoped for something more fitting for his friend’s first outing in freedom.**

**  
**

**Nikki had been pragmatic about it, though. A car was a car and it ran, getting them to the places they needed to go. Lee had complained that it had no guts and Nikki had quickly responded with something to the effect that she didn’t want ‘glory’ on the Intermountain West roads in the middle of winter. Lee had quickly shut up and bit the bullet.**

**  
**

**Chip chuckled as he remembered the exchange. His wife knew how to take care of Lee, respecting him, liking him, but keeping him in line at the same time. Not too many people could do that, most of all among women. Nikki also had the knack of keeping them both on the civilian track when they were off-boat, too. There were times he was intensely grateful for that. And there was the fact that she also could include Lee in some of their activities without making him feel like a tag-along. Chip had worried about that when he had married. He needn’t have. Nikki, as a former WAVE, then a biochemist involved in oceanographic research, was well versed in the nuances of their professions.**

**  
**

**He was brought back to the present when he noticed Lee standing in his way by the driver’s side of the car.“I thought I was driving.”**

**  
**

**Crane shook his head.“I’m driving. I saw how your eyes lit up when the cashier mentioned deer, taking pictures and beautiful mountains. How many rolls of film have you used already? Three? I’ll drive, you rubberneck. Besides, rank has its privileges.”**

**  
**

**Chip laughed and dug in his pocket past the thermal glove that was stuffed inside. He pulled out the keys, handing them over.**

**  
**

**“Besides, you forgot to turn off the lights.” Lee pointed. Sure enough the lights were on in back.**

**  
**

**“I’m sure I turned them off,” he said with a frown.**

**  
**

**“Well, we weren’t in there long enough, Chip. Don’t worry about it.”**

**  
**

**They got in and Lee started the car. They drove out of the small parking area onto old highway 89, the one that would take them not only into Sardine Pass but all the way to Bear Lake. It wasn’t long before they reached the turn-off into the canyon. The signs were very clear, but Lee frowned and fooled around with the brake while waiting for the light to change.**

**  
**

**“What’s up?” Chip asked, watching.**

**  
**

**“Nothing, just checking to make sure I had the emergency brake off.” He paused briefly. “I did.” They turned up the canyon and Lee muttered, “Gutless wonder.”**

**  
**

**The car did seem a bit sluggish, but Chip figured it was the steepness of the slope along with the car’s lack of horsepower. He pulled out his camera and checked it to make sure the settings were right. They were and he sighted through the viewfinder at the snow-covered mountainside. Chip watched carefully as they continued to slowly, but steadily climb. Not far into their drive, they passed a small town. Mantua, he read on the sign. It looked very pristine with a small lake, rustic houses on one side of the highway in a small tucked-in valley in the mountains. He took a few pictures as they headed up the steep slope.**

**  
**

**They continued upward. Snow was piled on each side of the two-lane highway, testament of the storms that had already passed through this part of the country. No wonder Lee was a bit nervous. They could calmly, or most of the time, successfully, deal with anything that was thrown at them underwater, but this was a totally different environment. They got to one summit and then into a valley with fallow, snow-covered fields on each side. They started up again, slowly making it to the top. They were just heading down again, picking up speed. There! There was a deer—no, there were several of them in a sparse thicket not far from the side of the road. One was a two-point buck. A doe, couple of yearlings.**

**  
**

**“What the hell?” Lee said suddenly.**

**  
**

**Chip turned to see what was happening and caught someone pointing toward their front wheels even as they passed by them. “What’s….”**

**  
**

**“Must be a flat. Should’ve stopped and checked it before this. Damn!” Lee slowly pulled over as they started up another slope, finding a spot a bit wider on the side of the road. He checked the traffic, which was not too heavy and then got out as soon as the opportunity arose. “What?” he said, almost to himself as he looked at both left tires.**

**  
**

**Chip was close to a snow bank, but he managed to get out, too, camera still hanging around his neck. What he saw almost had him slack-jawed in shock. “What?”**

**  
**

**“They’re red hot!” Lee cried. “Get away from the car,” he ordered.**

**  
**

**Chip didn’t waste time gaping; he reached in and grabbed the backpack with the hunting equipment the in-laws had given him for Christmas. The inner rims of the tires looked like the inside of a car cigarette lighter, red hot and steaming in their proximity to the cold snow and icy air. The submariners strode about ten yards ahead of the car and waited to see what would happen next.**

**  
**

**“I’m no mechanic, but that appears to be some kind of braking system problem,” Chip mused as they stood staring at the car sitting serenely. Cars passed by them, some slowing down.**

**  
**

**One person slowed and pulled over near them, rolling down her window. A couple of kids were in the back, staring at them in curiosity. She asked apologetically, “Would you like me to call someone for you? I’d take one of you, but…”**

**  
**

**“I understand, ma’am,” Lee said, his voice conciliatory. “But that would be nice if you could call the police. We’re not from around here and don’t know anyone.” Then he added, glancing at the car. “I still don’t know if that thing is dangerous. You might better take the kids and drive on.”**

**  
**

**She nodded. “As soon as I get through the pass, I’ll call the sheriff’s office.”**

**  
**

**“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Lee said with a reassuring smile.**

**  
**

**She rolled up the window and eased back onto the highway when it was clear.**

**  
**

**Lee looked at Chip and what he was holding in one hand. “Not the most reassuring thing to have, you know.”**

**  
**

**Chip looked down and realized he was still holding the new rifle. “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t going to leave it in there, though. Not if the car was going to explode. If I know Nikki’s in-laws, this wasn’t cheap and I want a chance….”**

**  
**

**“That was fast,” Lee muttered looking up the highway where the woman had driven off. A flashing light on an unmarked car was approaching them from the northeast, the way they had been headed.“Well, at least we won’t be out here in the cold for terribly long. I wish we’d had an extra mobile.”**

**  
**

**Chip felt a twinge of guilt that he had talked Lee into letting Nikki and her parents take the Institute mobile phone. Of course, it didn’t matter that his friend had seen the apparent wisdom of the decision and hadn’t needed any coaxing. Chip laid the gun aside, next to his backpack, not wanting any extra issues with the local police. They watched as the sedan parked about ten feet ahead of them and a very large man got out from behind the wheel. There was another man, but Chip couldn’t see him clearly.**

**  
**

**“Problem, mister?” the man asked. Chip watched the man swagger up toward them. He was suddenly reminded of the overbearing sheriff in the Smokey movie he had watched a year or two back. This guy walked just like him and the accent was even similar.**

**  
**

**“Yes, sir,” Lee began and then his voice trailed off for a few seconds.**

**  
**

**For some reason, Chip felt a small tingling of alarm and wanted desperately to reach for the rifle he had laid down, even if it was unloaded.**

**  
**

**“Something’s wrong with our car,” Lee said slowly, using the careful, deliberate voice he did on the sub when things weren’t quite what they should be.**

**  
**

**Chip began watching his captain for cues. He noticed Lee’s gaze stray from the policeman’s face to the police sedan and Chip followed suit. The other man was still sitting in the car. The uniforms seemed right, badges, car, and yet—and yet, there was something….**

**  
**

**“Like the brakes locked up, or something,” Lee added. Cars slowed down to see what was going on, but the policeman waved them on. In the distance, Chip heard the wavering sound of a siren coming from the direction this one had come. “They were red hot a few minutes ago,” Lee continued, his voice sounding distracted. “We didn’t know if the car was going to blow up or not, to be honest with you.”**

**  
**

**The big sheriff swaggered toward their car, looked and then returned to them. “Yeah, something’s wrong. Not safe to drive it.” He paused. “What’s your name, sir?” he asked Lee, his eyes only flicking quickly to Chip.**

**  
**

**“Commander Lee Crane.”**

**  
**

**The sheriff looked startled for a brief moment. “Navy? The one who….”**

**  
**

**“Yeah,” Lee cut the man off, obviously not wanting to go into his recent adventure, which was only now edging off the media charts.**

**  
**

**“Well, you two boys get in the back of my car and we’ll take you into Logan where you can hire a tow truck. Definitely not safe to drive that car.”**

**  
**

**“Thanks,” Lee began, hesitated and then continued. “Actually, if you could just call a tow truck out for us, we’d rather wait.” When he got a sharp look from the sheriff, he added, “It’s a rental and I really don’t want to pay extra for a hunk of junk like this—you know, in case something happened while we were away.”**

**  
**

**Crane’s eyes continued to alternate between the man before them and the one in the sedan. A click of the car door told Chip that the other man was getting out. Cars blew past them, some of them slowing down, one pulling over on the other side of the road. Before Chip could get a good look at the sheriff’s partner, Lee shouted something that had the hair rising on the back of his neck. Chip looked closely at the partner, now standing beside the patrol sedan and he knew. The moment was petrified into one terrifying instant in time. The eyes that bored into him were from the past; they pinned him to a specimen board. For a nano-second they had him unable to move or do anything. Death stalked them. The man reached for a gun and suddenly all hell broke loose.**

********

**  
**

**Chapter 2**

**  
**

**“Hartsfield!” Crane cried out, his eyes blazing, locked on the man who had just gotten out of the sedan. The large man grabbed him, one hand reaching to curl around Lee’s neck. In his right hand was a gun. With a cry of rage, Lee exploded, ducking out of the so-called sheriff’s grasp, wrenching the gun away with one hand. He seized the huge man’s fist and bent the fingers back. Sheriff cried out in pain and jerked back. It seemed as though everything was moving interminably slow, but Chip knew it was only an instant.**

**  
**

**Lee reversed the gun—Chip noticed it had a silencer—and fired it at Hartsfield. With a scream, the former ONI operative fell to the ground, writhing. But Chip had seen something before Lee fired. Hartsfield was pulling something from his waist; a gun, Chip thought, which he had no doubt meant to use against Lee; probably both of them. The quasi-sheriff lunged at Lee again, this time succeeding in grabbing him by the wrist. They struggled and Chip, who had snatched his rifle from where it had rested, leaped toward the struggling men. Somewhere back in the recesses of his brain, he again heard sirens in the distance, the screech of brakes more close, a horn blaring. Then he heard a soft pop, a scream and to his immense relief, he saw the large sheriff—or whatever he was- fall away from Lee with another sharp cry.**

**  
**

**“Lee, there’s more coming!” he said, pointing up the highway where he was hearing the sirens. The sun was painting a surreal brightness to the surroundings, belying the fact they had just been ambushed. Someone screeched to a halt on the other side of the highway in their pickup truck and pointed a gun out the opened window. There was a logo on the side, but Chip couldn’t tell what it was in the glare of the sun. He pointed the rifle at him and the man ducked.**

**  
**

**“We don’t know if they’re friendlies or more of Hartsfield’s cronies,” Lee responded, pulling away from the large man groaning on the ground. “We’re gonna have to get away from here!”**

**  
**

**“Mountains, Lee. Circle around back to that town we just passed. Find someone friendly,” Chip said in a rush. He grabbed his pack and with a glance back at his partner, he threw it over his shoulders and headed off the roadway and into a nearby thicket. The camera was still bouncing on his chest. He noticed the look of disgust that Lee had sent his way, but he could explain later. A shot and a resulting pinging caused him to spin around before get more than a few feet into the bent little trees. Lee had fired at the man in the truck, hitting the truck bed.**

**  
**

**“Go, Chip, keep going! Some of these mountain cowboys aren’t waiting to ask questions first! There’s some rocks upslope that will get us out of line of fire. Go!”**

**  
**

**Chip went. The pack weighed him down, but he wasn’t going to take the time to take it off now. The empty rifle was helping him with the terrain and he was glad he had brought it along. If they could only get the next fifty or so feet unscathed. Everything seemed to be moving so slowly. The slope seemed to be impossibly steep. The sirens blared louder, coming right behind them. The cavalry had apparently arrived. A shout for them to stop, come back, drop their guns, all the standard fare. But who was a friend now, and who was foe?**

**  
**

**Another crack and a branch exploded in front of him. There was another shout; a more heated warning. Then there were several more shots, spattering the ground and kicking up gravel. To bad these folks didn’t realize just who it was back there next to the patrol car, he thought desperately. “Lee?” he called over his shoulder.**

**  
**

**“Keep moving, Chip! I’m right behind you,” his friend panted.**

**  
**

**With that, Chip put on a burst of speed and reached a tumble of boulders. Ducking behind some rocks, he saw that there was a passage almost like a trail leading upward, at times protected by other outcroppings of boulders and scrub. With surprise, Chip realized that they weren’t that far from the top of the mountain. They had to have climbed in record time. He glanced back and saw Lee only a few feet behind him.**

**  
**

**“What the hell possessed you to tell everyone out there, including sheriff wannabe, your plans?” Lee spat, heaving in a shuddering gulp of air.**

**  
**

**“Throw them off. It’s closer to go over the mountains into Cache Valley than it is to go back to that place we passed,” Chip countered. The siren wavered in the wind, its voice echoing up and down in grotesque wailing.**

**  
**

**Lee nodded and motioned for him to continue. They did, although the rocks did nothing for their speed. Sometimes they slipped and had to scrabble for footing. Periodically, they were reminded that there were people down there unhappy with them and their little shoot-out with Lee’s former ONI co-operative. More shouts; now from a cop, he surmised, and then another couple of shots. A rock exploded beside his head and he dropped down.**

**  
**

**“Keep going,” Lee commanded. “Think someone’s following. We can reconnoiter on the other side of this slope.”**

**  
**

**“And hope those cowboys down there don’t form a posse,” Chip shot over his shoulder. But he continued, keeping as low as he could. The distant sirens didn’t sound so distant, but the wind made it difficult to tell. He finally made it to the top of the mountain and slid/scrambled down the other side. The rocks seemed to alternate with sparse brush and stunted tree growth, but Chip only slowed down enough to keep his footing. He found another narrow trail, presumably from deer and he followed it. A quick glance at the sky gave him reason to believe that it was going in the same direction he presumed Cache county to be in. There was a town, Paradise, he remembered, that he had seen on the map. Not large, but there would be someone they could find who might listen to their story. It would give time for the real law to figure out just who it was that had ambushed them.**

**  
**

**Chip would have preferred to have just waited for the real police to show up, but how could he know if the next group wasn’t part of Hartsfield’s crew? Apparently the former agent had friends. Sheriff wannabe, as Lee had called him, was proof of that.**

**  
**

**They made good time on the track and soon they were at a tiny, half frozen creek at the bottom of the short slope. The trees were fairly thick here. Aspen mingled with a bit of scrub pine and brush. He pushed through to the edge of the creek and paused. There was another track leading up another slope. Chip heaved in cold breaths of air and then turned to see how Lee was faring.With sudden alarm, he didn’t see his friend. “Lee?”**

**  
**

**There was the sound of rocks rattling down the slope toward him, crackling brush and then Lee was in front of him. “Had to take care of the hot shot following us,” he said with a wan smile.**

**  
**

**“You didn’t….”**

**  
**

**“No,” he replied tersely. “Just knocked him out.” He leaned over to catch his breath and then shoved the confiscated gun into his pocket.**

**  
**

**“You okay?” Chip asked in alarm. Lee seemed pale. “I know seeing Hartsfield was….”**

**  
**

**“I’m okay,” Lee shot back, his voice tight with what Chip perceived to be barely controlled anger. “You sure you know the way to get to this other county?”**

**  
**

**“I know the general direction. There’s a town at the very south end of Cache Valley called Paradise….”**

**  
**

**“What?” Lee’s eyes widened with surprise but he didn’t say anything else, only stood quietly, hands jammed into his pockets, leaning against a tree.**

**  
**

**Chip couldn’t help but wonder if the tree was holding him up. He knew how much the revelation of Hartsfield’s role in his mother’s death a couple of years had shaken him, but Lee had not wanted to talk much about it and Chip hadn’t pushed. That had been over two years ago. Now, with Hartsfield on the other side of the mountain, with the sure knowledge that the former ONI operative had been patiently stalking his friend, he wondered at Lee’s ability to cope with what had just happened. “Lee?”He was going to ask if he thought Hartsfield was still alive, but thought better of it. “Yeah, Paradise. There’s an even smaller town a bit further, but I think its Paradise that will be closer and there are lots of outlying farms and ranches in these parts. We’re talking maybe five or six miles.”**

**Again, Lee nodded. “We’d better get going then, before they send out a real posse. While we still have daylight.”**

**  
**

**“Yes.” Chip quickly pulled off his backpack, shoving his camera inside and then digging in one of the outer pockets. He pulled out a small compass and studied it. He looked up the steep slope next to the creek. “We’ll follow the creek bed a ways until we can find a decent path up this mountain. We’ll need to go over it somewhere in that direction,” he said, pointing.**

**  
**

**“Okay, Chip. You lead. You had the foresight to come prepared.”**

**  
**

**“How could anyone prepare for what happened back there? Bet the brakes were tampered with while we were eating,” Chip responded. When Lee didn’t say anything, Chip shrugged the pack on and they set out, following the tiny creek until it disappeared in a copse of aspen and pine. At that point the mountain sloped a bit easier toward the east. There were also several small stands of trees, Chip noticed gratefully and he made use of them, in case someone else came over the crest of the slope behind them.**

**  
**

**He took in the scudding clouds above them, heading west to east and Chip realized that the storm that had been forecast for tonight might be coming in a bit sooner than expected. The wind picked up more as they went higher, but it had the advantage to be at their backs, almost giving them a boost up the slope. Occasionally, he heard the soft, wavering sound of sirens, but it was of no consequence right now. Chip hoped they wouldn’t bring in anything more advanced, liked a helicopter or a canine cop. The latter would be extremely hard to deal with.**

**  
**

**They reached the top and Chip walked a bit down slope before stopping to take bearings. It looked to be an easier hike in this valley. Lee was near his elbow so Chip just continued down the mountain path, thanking whatever generations of deer had made it so many years ago. The snow had been able to lay better here and there were drifts up against boulders and around thickets. Chip thought they made good time, with only a few loose rocks to impede their progress. They hiked up another slope, still heading east and then down into another narrow valley. This one was steeper, and more heavily wooded, but the path wove unerringly to the east. They went through another, wider valley. When Lee slowed his pace, Chip reminded him of their need to reach Paradise before dark. Still the pace continued slowing as they made their way across the valley.**

**  
**

**Chip figured they had gone at least a few miles. He looked at his watch. Suddenly, a rustling ahead stopped him in his tracks. A deer with a yearling fawn suddenly exploded out of a thicket nearby, startling him. “Geez, under any other circumstances, that would have been beautiful.” **

**  
**

**“Chip,” Lee said softly from behind him, his panting breath harsh. **

**  
**

**Turning, Chip was alarmed to see that Crane was almost ashen. He was standing about ten feet behind him, clutching on to a small tree. “Lee, what….?”**

**  
**

**Lee suddenly dropped to his knees, stifling a moan. He bent forward as though sick to his stomach.**

**  
**

**Shucking the pack as he ran the short distance to his friend, Chip noticed the dark red stain in the upper part of the back of Lee’s coat. “Dammit, Lee, why didn’t you tell me you’d been hit!”**

**  
**

**Sucking in a tremulous breath, Crane murmured, “Had to get away. No difference. Sorry, Chip.”**

**  
**

**“You need medical help—a hospital. I’ll help you get back.”**

**  
**

**“No!” Lee looked directly into Chip’s eyes. “No. We’re wanted. Me for murder—of a cop, maybe two. They aren’t ready yet to listen.”**

**  
**

**“Lee, they wouldn’t shoot us in cold blood if we came back peacefully and you’d get the care you….”**

**  
**

**“No. Chip listen. You’re probably right, but we don’t know. There were others. One in the truck was forestry. If they are following, how do we know what’s on their minds. Hartsfield could’ve had more men. The one I clobbered wasn’t a real cop.”**

**  
**

**“No, he was an idiot.” Desperately, Chip, looked around, his eyes flitting to anything that might offer at least a place where he could look at Lee’s wound.**

**  
**

**Lee chuckled, but it sounded weak. “How far to this Paradise did you say?”**

**  
**

**“About two, maybe three miles from here I guess. We’ve gone about three, according to my best reckoning.”**

**  
**

**Crane nodded slowly. “Mountains don’t seem quite as steep here. I say we go on. Find a place to hole up tonight. Someplace warm.” His statement was punctuated by shivering. “That gives the local police time to figure out what we knew up front. We were ambushed.”**

**  
**

**Chip sucked in a deep breath and finally nodded. “First I’m going to do something about that bleeding.”**

**  
**

**“Okay,” Lee acquiesced.**

**  
**

**“If I give you a hand, can you walk a little further?”**

**The amber brown eyes snapped briefly in indignation and then Crane gave a slight nod. “I made it, what, three miles over these blasted mountains, why not a few more?” he said, reaching out for Chip’s help.**

**  
**

**Carefully, Morton helped his commanding officer to his feet. Lee seemed to be steady enough, but still. . .“Just lean on me and we’ll go into that thicket the deer were in. If someone is following us, we’ll be out of sight.”**

**  
**

**“Good idea, but we’re not going to stay more than long enough for you to bandage the wound.”**

**  
**

**“Let me play doc this time,” Chip replied sardonically, “Even if you do have a great deal of experience.”**

**  
**

**This time, Lee’s laugh was a bit heartier.**

**  
**

**It made Chip feel a bit better about what he figured lay ahead.**

**  
**

**“Anything you say, Mr. Morton,” Lee answered.**

**  
**

**  
**  


****

**  
**

**Trooper Jeff Allred pulled up and surveyed the scene. In the distance, he heard the sirens wailing. Two ambulances had been dispatched, but at first glance, he wasn’t sure that both were needed. He was assailed by several people at once. He glanced at them and chose the deputy from the sheriff’s office. “What happened? I was told that a couple of policemen had been attacked.”**

**  
**

**The deputy nodded. “When I pulled up, the scuffle had progressed into shooting and that officer over there was already dead. This one is wounded, but an off duty nurse is tending to him. He’s said nothing since he was told that his partner was dead.” Then he pointed up the steep slope. “They went up that way, both of them well armed. I tried to get them to surrender, but they refused. I was worried about them being on the loose.” His sentence trailed off and he sounded apologetic.**

**  
**

**“What are you not telling me?”**

**  
**

**“I was only firing to warn them . . . shoot above their heads, you know. Well, I guess . . .I mean, I think I let my anger get the best of me. I kept thinking that they had killed one policeman and tried to kill another and wondered what they might do to civilians.”**

**  
**

**“And you shot one?” The young deputy nodded. Allred peered up the sun-burnished slope. “I don’t see anyone.”**

**  
**

**“No, they both kept on going and . . . well, now I’m wondering if I actually did hit anyone.”**

**  
**

**“You’d better hope not. There are procedures to follow.”**

**  
**

**The deputy nodded. “One of them said something about heading back to Mantua, so I put in an alert to have a couple of Box Elder officers patrol the area.”**

**“Good.”**

**  
**

**“Uh, one other thing, sir,” the young deputy said.**

**  
**

**“What?”**

**  
**

**“Guy in that truck followed. I told him to stop, but he ignored me.”**

**  
**

**“Any shots on the other side of the mountain?” Allred asked.**

**  
**

**“No, nothing, sir.”**

**  
**

**Allred sighed. “As much as I hate to say this, we can’t spare anyone now. As soon as reinforcements come, you and I can go over the ridge and look for him.” The deputy nodded and he walked over to the large man being tended on the ground. Looked to be non-life threatening gunshot wound in his leg. “You all right?” The man nodded. Then Allred frowned. He was pretty much aware of most of the policemen in the area. This one didn’t ring any bells. “I don’t think I know you. What’s your name?”**

**  
**

**“I’m federal,” came the terse answer.**

**  
**

**The answer didn’t seem quite right for someone in law enforcement, especially to someone else in law enforcement. “Can I see your identification?”**

**  
**

**The man fumbled inside his shirt and then looked back up. “Must be in the car.”**

**  
**

**The man was federal and didn’t seem to have everything put together, Allred thought. “Ambulance will be here soon.” He turned to the deputy. “You keep the traffic moving. We sure don’t need any accidents from rubbernecking.”**

**  
**

**“Yes, sir.”**

**  
**

**Allred walked over to the large man’s sedan and glanced inside. He looked back at the dead man on the ground and saw that his left hand seemed unnaturally gnarled. Then Allred looked inside the door of their cruiser. With a sharp intake of breath he did a more serious study of the car, without touching anything. “Mark?” he called out.**

**  
**

**“Yes,” the deputy answered at once.**

**  
**

**“Call an investigative team in here. I want this car and the deceased checked out. Something’s not right.” He turned back to the large man on the ground who appeared to have been watching his every move. Allred ignored him and walked to the other car, the one he assumed belonged to the two fugitives. There was a carry-on sized case in the back, along with a thin briefcase. He pulled out his gloves from an outer pocket and slipped them on. Then he reached in and touched the button that would open the latches on the briefcase. As he suspected, it was locked. He turned his attention to the case, unzipping it and pulling back the flap. Basic supplies—shaving kit, other toiletries, underwear, change of clothes; there was nothing to tell him any identity, except for a few souvenirs that showed this pair to be from out of state. Allred looked into a side pocket and pulled out an airline ticket. It was to Santa Barbara and was made out to a Lee Crane.**

**  
**

**Allred pondered where he had heard that name before. He looked again. It was marked for military standby. Military. Santa Barbara. What military connections did Santa Barbara have? None, unless you counted the Nelson Institute of Marine Research. And then he realized just who one of these men was. Jolted, Allred backed out of the car and returned to the injured man.**

** ******

**  
**

**  
**

**Chapter 3**

**  
**

**Allred walked up to the injured policeman. His gut feeling told him the man was not in law enforcement at all.“What’s your name? Who was your partner?” The man gazed up at him in silence. “You know it’s going to be hard enough with an impersonating an officer charge but then add to it the attempted murder of a high ranking official.”** ****

**  
**

**The large man seemed a bit shaken. “What are you talking about? What high ranking official?”** ****

**  
**

**“Captain Lee Crane? Submarine _Seaview_? Made a bit of news last week.”** ****

**  
**

**The man glanced at his dead partner and as the first ambulance pulled up he said tersely, “That guy hired me.” He pointed at the body. “Said Crane was ONI and had sold secrets to get out of the People’s Republic. Said I was to take them alive so Crane could stand trial. I wasn’t going to shoot him, much less murder him.”** ****

**  
**

**Allred wasn’t buying it, but he read the guy his rights anyway. “If he was legit, then why wouldn’t ONI send him with enough backup to do the job instead of hiring outside help.”** ****

**  
**

**The big man shook his head.** ****

**  
**

**“Doesn’t wash,” Allred commented. One paramedic began working on the large man while the other checked the dead man. Allred ignored them and continued his questioning. “What was his name?”** ****

**  
**

**“Harker. John Harker.”** ****

**  
**

**“Did you check him out?”** ****

**  
**

**“Why?” he asked with a sneer. “His money was good.”** ****

**  
**

**“You never told me your name.”** ****

**  
**

**The man suddenly clammed up except to say, “I want a lawyer.”** ****

**  
**

**“You’ll get one,” Allred said in disgust. By now clouds had not only covered the sun, but they had lowered considerably. They were already hiding the tops of some of the summit peaks. That storm would hit well before dark, he guessed. Strike another one up for the meteorologists, he thought with a humorless smile. Another sheriff’s vehicle showed up. Allred walked over to the body and addressed the paramedic who had just finished his assessment. “I want the body left here for the investigative team.”** ****

**  
**

**“The guy had a gun,” the paramedic said, pointing.** ****

**  
**

**Allred’s eyebrow shot up in surprise and he looked. It wasn’t Government Issue unless ONI was giving its operatives silencers to go with their revolvers. Something else for the investigative team to figure out. “There’s possibly another injured man up there, maybe two.Someone will be going up in a minute and can let you know.”** ****

**  
**

**As the first ambulance headed back to Logan, he and Mark Petersen headed up the steep slope. “About how far up were they when you shot at them?”** ****

**  
**

**“About halfway up.”** ****

**  
**

**They continued up the slope and then over the crest. They came across a man lying motionless on the ground. A quick check showed him to be unconscious. A knot on the back of his head showed the reason why. Allred and Petersen checked the area and found no one else. “If you nailed one of them, it wasn’t bad enough to leave any blood evidence—or to hold these two up. Go get one of the paramedics up here.” As Allred waited, perusing the terrain, the man at his feet began to stir. The trooper knelt down, putting his hand on the young man’s shoulder.** ****

**  
**

**“What?” The eyes fluttered open, took in Allred and tried to sit up.** ****

**  
**

**“Take it easy. There’s a paramedic coming up.”** ****

**  
**

**The younger man shivered. “I remember seeing one of them down below and then . . . bam, nothing.”** ****

**  
**

**“I hope you remember how stupid you were, coming up here alone,” Allred said dryly.** ****

**  
**

**“Yeah. I should have known better. I’m an MP on leave…. Just was going to see where they were going. Didn’t even think they knew I was behind them.” He looked up at Allred. “For what it’s worth, those guys are good.”** ****

**  
**

**Allred ignored the explanation, still thinking the man more stupid than dirt, even more so because of his training. “Were you at the scene when the shooting occurred?” he asked.** ****

**  
**

**“Yeah, it was going down. The big cop was talking to the dark-haired guy and when the smaller cop got out of his car, the dark-haired guy just lost it. Shouted a name, ‘Hartsfield,’ I think. Grabbed the big guy’s gun and then shot the smaller guy right where he stood. Shot both of them….”** ****

**  
**

**“Okay, you’ll be able to give a full statement when they take you to the hospital.” The man began arguing. “That knot on your head says you’re going to spend a couple of hours at Logan Hospital.”** ****

**  
**

**The man sighed. “My wife’s never going to let me live this down.”** ****

**  
**

**“Good, might keep you alive next time.”**

**  
**

**================================**

**  
**

**As Chip worked on his friend in the sheltered copse of trees, Lee sucked in a tremulous breath and bit off an involuntary cry.** ****

**  
**

**“Sorry, I know it hurts.” He finished cleaning the area around the wound and placed the folded material from a ripped up t-shirt against the wound. The bullet had struck from below and slid under the skin, further diminishing its power. Still, Chip worried. Too much blood. This whole thing; the whole situation was surreal. To be acting like spies on some botched ONI mission in the middle of America seemed more dream, or nightmare, than reality. He shook his mental meanderings to the side and concentrated on taking care of Lee. The rest of the shirt was folded and wrapped over Crane’s shoulder and under his other arm to hold the bandage on tight. The material’s stretchy nature would help keep the bandage secure.** ****

**  
**

**“Hurts? Hell, no, your hands are cold!”** ****

**  
**

**“_Everything’s_ cold, Lee,” Chip reminded his friend. He knew Lee was in pain; he had to be, but it was hidden behind the bravado. Lee knew, as well as he did, that they were not in a good position. Either way they went, back or forward, was going to be tough. But Lee had a point, the mountains before them appeared to be not quite so steep. If they could only make it to someone’s place, then Crane could get the help he needed.** ****

**  
**

**His comment elicited a soft chuckle that ended sharply as Chip continued to work on the wound.** ****

**  
**

**“You even have a first aid kit in that pack of yours?” Lee asked, his voice sardonic.** ****

**  
**

**Chip decided to keep up the pretense that Lee had built, at least for the moment. “No, a tee-shirt. You liked it so much, you get the privilege of having Temple Square close to you, pal.”** ****

**  
**

**There was a pause. “You used the tee-shirt Caroline gave you?”** ****

**  
**

**“Sure. It’ll help keep the bleeding to a minimum. And besides, I didn’t have much in there to choose from. Didn’t think denim would work.”** ****

**  
**

**Lee ignored his last comment. “How bad?”** ****

**  
**

**“Better than I figured. Bullet had to have been stopped by your shoulder blade after entering your back on an upward trajectory. You’re lucky you don’t have a fracture; at least nothing appears to be fractured. You did lose more blood than I’m comfortable with, though.”** ****

**  
**

**“No, not fractured. . . I think. Distance, too,” came the terse answer.** ****

**  
**

**“And that heavy coat you’re wearing.” Keep it positive, Chip reminded himself.** ****

**  
**

**“Not wearing it now.” Lee’s teeth were chattering and Chip knew he was trying hard to control his body’s automatic reactions.** ****

**  
**

**Lee had been shivering the entire time Chip had been working on the wounded shoulder, more violently when Morton had used snow to help wipe off the coagulated blood. Now powerful shudders passed through the lean frame, hindering Chip’s first aid efforts. “Sorry,” Chip said again. “But you need to hold as still as you can so I can finish this.”** ****

**  
**

**“Hurry up, Chip. It’s too cold to be stripped to the skin out here.”** ****

**  
**

**Chip worried at the almost plaintive note in Lee’s voice. “Yeah, but I have to make sure the bandage will stay put. I am working as fast as I can, Lee.”** ****

**  
**

**For several minutes there was only the sound of the wind moaning in the heights and the rustle of tree limbs rubbing against each other in the protected thicket. “I know, Chip,” Lee said, his voice soft and subdued. “When you’re done, do you happen to have some water in that Tardis you call a backpack?”** ****

**  
**

**Chip ignored the _Dr. Who_ reference. Right now, though, he wished he did have a travel device. “Yeah, I do, Lee. I’ll get it out after I immobilize your arm and then help you get your shirt and coat back on.”** ****

**  
**

**“No, don’t bind my arm. I might need it for balance,” Lee said and before Chip could protest, he continued, “I know the risks, Chip, but I also know the risks of falling on some of these rocky slopes, too, if I’m unbalanced.”** ****

**  
**

**Chip opened his mouth for argument, but realized Lee was right about that. He did need the use of his left arm if he slid on rocks or snow. “Okay, but try to use it as little as possible,” he admonished. Gently, Morton pulled on the thick flannel shirt, now hard crusted with frozen blood and buttoned it. He eased on the heavy down-filled coat. Finally, he pushed Lee’s hands out of the way and fastened the buttons. Before he could do anything else, Lee jerked the hood over his head one-handed and began fumbling with the snaps and drawstrings. “Whoa, wait a minute. Didn’t I tell you to keep that arm as immobile as you could?”** ****

**  
**

**“You start feeding me and I’m going to belt you,” Lee growled as Chip tied the hood so the wind wouldn’t blow it off.**

**  
**

**Chip dug out a bottle of water in his pack. It was the only one, but he wasn’t going to tell Lee that.** ****

**  
**

**The injured man sucked down the water avidly, draining half before handing it to Chip. “Your turn.”** ****

**  
**

**Chip shook his head. “I’ll get out another one when I’m thirsty.”** ****

**  
**

**Lee studied him. “Liar.” But he took another drink and then shoved the bottle in his coat pocket. He gazed upward. “Appears that clouds are gathering. I think we’d better get going.”** ****

**  
**

**Chip had noticed that, too, and just hoped that they could find a safe place before dark.** ****

**  
**

**“Lead on, MacDuff,” Lee told him, motioning with a wave of the hand.** ****

**  
**

**Chip started to ask him if he wanted to lean on him, but saw the determined look in the amber-brown eyes and simply turned and headed up the slope. It was a fairly easy way to the northeast and the deer trail was smooth for the most part. Despite the darkening of the sky and lowering of the clouds, Chip slowed his pace so as not to wear out the injured man.** ****

**  
**

**His plan backfired, though, when Lee protested behind him. “Chip, while we have this straight trail, let’s get the lead out.”** ****

**  
**

**Chip glanced over his shoulder. “You sure you’ll be okay at a faster pace?”** ****

**  
**

**“We need to get into Cache Valley before it gets dark, right? Obviously this isn’t it. If I need help going upslope, I’ll ask, but while we’re on level ground and it’s easy going, let’s not waste time.”** ****

**  
**

**“You promise you’ll let me know? You won’t try to overdo it like you did back there?”**

**“I promise, Mrs. Morton.”** ****

**  
**

**Chip felt that Lee would do his best to make good on this one. Then he noticed the lines of fatigue in his friend’s face and wondered just how long Lee would last. They would see. He turned up the trail and started off again. The wind gusted, blowing some of the more recent snow against bushes and boulders. Chip noticed the trail veering upslope, gradually at first and then more steeply. He paused long enough to consult his compass. The trail was still in line with the direction they needed to go. He looked back and saw Lee leaning against a boulder, finishing off the bottle of water. He figured they had gone almost a half-mile along this trail. Lee had done better than he expected.** ****

**  
**

**“Here,” Chip said, motioning for the empty bottle. “Before we go up the slope, let me fill it at the stream.”** ****

**  
**

**“Uh, it looks clear, but….”** ****

**  
**

**“Least of our worries, right now, Lee. You know that.” There was no answer and Chip filled the bottle. He took a long drink, filled it again and then handed it to his companion. Before setting off again, he settled the rifle more securely against his pack.** ****

**  
**

**“You don’t have ammunition, so why are you hanging on to it?” Lee asked suddenly.** ****

**  
**

**“Well, I bluffed with it once and besides, Nikki gave it to me.”** ****

**  
**

**“Figured to make an outdoorsman out of you yet, I suppose,” Lee said, pushing himself away from the boulder.** ****

**  
**

**“The only reason you have more savvy with this kind of thing than I do is all that time you played boy scout with ONI,” Chip retorted with a good natured chuckle. Lee just grunted acknowledgement. Again, Chip was struck with the sheer absurdity of this situation. He shrugged and they started up the slope. Before they got halfway, Chip was steadying the injured man. Most of the way, Lee simply kept his hand on Chip’s shoulder. The pace slowed considerably, but neither man said anything. The next valley was the same as the last, the trail following a dried up creek bed this time. It was a bit shorter, but no more strenuous until they needed to head up slope. This time Lee leaned more heavily against his side.** ****

**  
**

**“Sorry, Chip,” Lee said for the umpteenth time.** ****

**  
**

**“Save your breath for walking,” Chip snapped. He wished Crane would stop apologizing, but then he sighed. “If anyone needs to apologize, it’s me. We should have just stayed put.”** ****

**  
**

**“Down at the highway?” panted his partner. “No. That was Hartsfield. You know what he’s capable of.”** ****

**  
**

**They walked a bit further uphill. Chip pulled Lee’s arm over his shoulders to help him and Lee let him. Not a good sign.** ****

**  
**

**“He hired one man,” Crane continued after a few more minutes, elaborating on what he had said earlier. “What’s to say there weren’t more…?”** ****

**  
**

**“I know, Lee.”** ****

**  
**

**They crested the mountain. The clouds seemed to swirl around them. Tiny snowflakes blew in a circular motion, and then eased up. What he could see of the valley ahead showed the same kind of emptiness he had seen in the previous valleys. Then the clouds lowered and obscured everything. He couldn’t see more than a quarter mile, but the trail ahead appeared to be a fairly easy walk. He saw more trees that would provide at least minimal shelter if the storm broke before they got out of this valley.** ****

**  
**

**As though reading his mind, Lee pulled away, but not before Chip felt him shivering. “Cold?”** ****

**  
**

**“Yeah, a little. Let’s get going. I don’t want to be out in this after dark.”** ****

**  
**

**“May not have a choice. We’ll go as far as we can and then I’ll find us some kind of shelter,” explained Chip.More light snow swirled around them.** ****

**  
**

**“Not Cache Valley, I gather.”** ****

**  
**

**“I don’t think so, or we’d see some sign of habitation. Of course, it’s so cloudy. Still, from what I saw on the map, and using the compass, when we cross into the valley, we won’t be a the far end, we’ll be coming out almost directly at a town.”** ****

**  
**

**“Paradise,” Lee said with a soft chuckle.** ****

**  
**

**“Or at least Avon. A bit smaller, but still there are ranches and farms. Probably over the next ridge.”** ****

**  
**

**“Let’s go, then.”** ****

**  
**

**Chip nodded and they set out again, his pace matching Lee’s flagging steps. He didn’t think Lee had much left in him.**

****


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chip was right; Lee didn’t have much left in him. He wavered, stumbled and would have gone down, if Chip hadn’t been holding on to him. "I think we need to hunker down somewhere."

"I think you need to just go find this valley of yours," Lee mumbled.

Chip was horrified. "You mean leave you?"

Lee nodded wearily, not even looking up at his companion.

"Nope, doesn’t work that way," Chip tossed back. "Not an option, m’bucko."

"It is if there’s no other choice."

"But there is a choice," Chip said vehemently. Despite his words, he knew he might have to go for help. Lee was unable to go any farther and he needed medical attention in the worst way. Chip was amazed that his CO had made it this far. Lee still wasn’t totally up to par from his time in the People’s Republic. He said nothing for a moment, then…. "Look, if I have to leave you, it’s only going to be after you are safe in a dry and warm place." The snow was falling thickly, making an already obscure landscape almost impossible to see. He shivered. The cold had been seeping through his thick coat and gloves for hours. Thankfully, the boots were waterproof and dry. But it was only the fact that they had been moving steadily that had kept him from feeling the cold to any degree. On the other hand, Chip could only imagine what Lee was feeling with the shock of the gunshot wound and subsequent blood loss. Shock. It was imperative they find a dry place. "And it certainly won’t be until it’s light enough to see."

Crane sucked in a ragged breath, standing up a bit taller. Still, he continued leaning against Chip. The visibility couldn’t be more than thirty feet now. The snow was coming down hard. "I’m your death sentence, Chip," he declared.

"That’s a bunch of bull and you know it, Lee. We’re in this together. We were a team in the academy and we sure as hell have been a team on the Gray Lady! So don’t even think any of that crap."

"Too tired to think…."

"Then let me do the thinking. You just do what I say and we’ll both survive." There was no answer. "I’ve got materials to start a fire. All we need is someplace sheltered from the snow and the wind, so I can make one."

"Go find one and let me sleep," Lee mumbled irritably.

"I can’t do that, either, and you know it. Look, I need your help. Just a bit more and we can both rest," Chip replied, almost pleading. In the increasing gloom, there was nothing except Crane’s harsh breathing and the soft sloughing of the wind through the trees. At least, thought Chip in relief, the wind had eased up. He looked around and saw something that made his heart leap. A barbwire fence! Whether they were actually in Cache Valley or not, they were near someone’s property. Chip peered into the snow-fogged late afternoon. He would be more likely to find a cave or overhang or something like that closer to the slope, and then in the morning he could follow the fence line and find a house.

"Come on, pal, I think we’re near a ranch. There’s a fence just in front of us."

"Can’t climb fence. Le’me go t’bed."

"Not asking you to climb anything. And I’ll let you go to bed in a minute. I promise. Few more feet, please, Lee."

Crane trudged alongside him as Chip walked parallel to the fence, studying the terrain, wishing, hoping for, begging for even a hole in a rock. Then he saw their next piece of good luck. It was an old camp trailer, rusted, the window missing, but still intact. Looked like something that might have once been a sheepherder’s wagon. "Come on, Lee. Think I’ve got us a safe place for the night." Lee didn’t say anything, but continued to follow his lead and plodded along, barely lifting his feet through the thickening snow. Chip left the injured man leaning against the side of the camper trailer, close to the door, which was hanging lopsided by only one hinge. It banged softly against the side of the trailer in the lowering wind. Quickly, Morton stepped inside. He pulled out a key chain flashlight from his pack and examined the floor. There was a hole to one side not too far from the door and the floorboards creaked when he stepped in. Still it was shelter and a darned sight better than he had expected.

It was one room, with a raised platform that Chip assumed had been for a bed. Quickly, he checked it and found it sturdy enough to hold Lee. There were several empty cabinets, the doors swung open crazily. He returned outside where he found Lee slumped to the ground, shivering in the snow. "I found it, Lee. Hotel d’Basque. Nice and snug and warm." Lee just mumbled unintelligibly. "Come on, pal, help me." He could feel his own strength waning. It had been a very nerve-wracking and strenuous afternoon.

Lee held out his hand and Chip grabbed it, pulling Crane to a sitting position and then up to stand beside him. The snow was heavier now, if that was possible. It was almost too dark to see anything. "Okay, let’s get out of this." With great care, he helped his friend to the doorway. "One step up, that’s it. Yeah. Good." The door was narrow enough that Chip had to stand behind the injured man and gently push. "Hang on to the door frame, Lee. Yeah. That’s it," he continued as he slipped around his friend who was leaning against the inside of the doorway. He pulled Lee further into the tiny trailer and led him to the platform. "Sit here and I’ll make this place more comfortable."

"No wind. No snow," Lee mumbled, slumping down.

"Yeah, we really lucked out," Chip concurred. "Let me get a fire going." With the flashlight’s glow, Chip was able to collect pieces of a broken chair and other scraps of wood. He gathered drifted leaves for tinder and then laid the fire on a square of metal that Chip could only assume was the base where an old stove had once stood. He looked above and saw a small hole where a flue had probably once gone. He smiled grimly. At least they wouldn’t be smoked out. A few flakes of snow drifted downward, so he knew that it wasn’t plugged. Bout time for a bit of luck in this misbegotten adventure.

While he worked he thought of Nikki and how she’d be taking the news of his and Lee’s adventures. It would surely have been on the news by now. ‘Two armed and dangerous fugitives in the mountains of Northern Utah.’ She’d be worried sick. She was a smart gal, his Nikki, and when they didn’t show up, she would put two and two together. Chip sighed lustily, knowing that she wouldn’t consider them crazed criminals for an instant, but what about anyone else in the area? Consider what happened to Lee; what had appeared to happen that precipitated the shooting afterward. Unless the feds had stepped in already and figured out who those two really were, there was no telling what might be going out on the airwaves. That wasn’t an issue now. Staying alive long enough to explain was an issue. Just staying alive….

Finally, he had to hold the flashlight in his teeth to finish the job. He pulled out a plain but elegant looking lighter from his pack. The only thing on it was a small plate that said, Salt Lake City with mountains in the background. It was a gift for the admiral, an inside joke that Doc wouldn’t appreciate, but the admiral certainly would. Now, hopefully it would save both their lives. The leaves resisted the lighter’s flame, smoldering frustratingly under the slivers and pieces of wood. Paper. He needed paper.

With cold-benumbed hands, Chip dug through his pack. Some brochures. That should do it. Quickly, he shredded the paper and stuck it under the teepee stack of wood. When he used the lighter this time, the paper caught immediately, igniting the leaves and sending small flames flaring under the wood. Chip blew gently, gazing intently for signs that the wood was catching. Smoke curled under the tiny flashlight beam, drifting toward the hole in the ceiling of the dilapidated structure. The wood caught and Chip scavenged around for more, tearing off the cabinet doors and splitting the very old and dry wood into lengths that would burn good in the growing fire.

After a quick glance at Lee, Chip surveyed the rest of the room. It didn’t look as though there would be enough wood to last the night, even if he completely dismantled the cabinets. Even if he could take them apart. The fire was blazing well now. Chip hesitated putting on the last of his pile of wood right now. If there was dead wood outside he could bring it in and let it dry for a while, then throw it on. Again, he looked at the still form of his commander, huddled on the platform. Morton knew Lee was alive because he was shivering. It was getting warmer in here and hopefully that would help.

Chip could afford a quick look outside. He needed to fix that door so that it would close more tightly anyway. Two steps were about all it took to get outside, the trailer was so small. The snow was still coming down fairly heavily, but it didn’t seem to be any worse. He stepped into the accumulated snow, noticing that their tracks were already half obscured. Ruefully, Chip thought that someone tracking them now might very well be a good thing. It might get Lee the help he needed. Of course, no one would be out in this. It would be morning before anything happened. He hunched his shoulders and walked away from their shelter. Then Chip stopped and looked around. It was almost dark now, the snow was still coming down and he couldn’t afford to get lost. To his consternation, he could only see vague outlines of the structure behind him. He judged the distance to be less than twenty-five feet.

Okay, so he couldn’t go more than twenty-five feet from the trailer. Right in front of him was a fence post. He followed the wire, kicking for any limbs, but there were none. They would keep stuff cleared away from the fence, he surmised. On the other hand, that told him this was a working ranch. So he shuffled back to the trailer. There was nothing on this side, he found. He poked his head in the door and saw that Lee hadn’t moved, but the fire was still burning well. Chip knew he couldn’t take too long with this search. There was a small thicket of trees and snow covered bushes on the other side and he plowed into the middle of them, trying to feel limbs and branches with his feet. Whatever he found would have to dry near the fire for a few hours, but if it was already dead, it wouldn’t take long.

His boot came upon a branch and he kicked the worst of the snow away and picked it up. It was long, but appeared brittle enough to break in the trailer. Chip searched for a few more minutes and then headed back. Lee had been left alone far too long. Even dragging the branches, it didn’t take long to return. He laid them as close to the fire as he could, adding a bit more of the broken up cabinet wood, then he checked on Lee. Feeling for a pulse, there was a moment of panic until he found it. Then Chip noticed that Lee was still shivering.

"Hands cold," Lee mumbled almost inaudibly.

"Sorry, Lee. Just checking on you. I’m going to figure out a way to get that door to stay shut, cover the window and then I’m going to stoke up the fire."

"Kay."

Chip went ahead and tossed a few more sticks of wood on the small fire, turned off the flashlight to conserve the battery. He studied the door. The remaining hinge was rusty and looked ready to give way any moment, but he pulled the door closed. There was no bolt; nothing that would catch on the frame and keep it in place. He felt along the door with his free hand. Wait! His fingers explored again in the dimness and he felt a hook. On the frame was an eye. He latched the hook and took his hand away from the half rotted rope that served in the same capacity as a knob. The door held. Next to be tackled was the window. Chip could feel the wafting of cold air in through the orifice. He had to do something to close it off.

"Hey, Lee. It’ll soon be warm in here," he said as cheerfully as he could. It would be if he could close off the window. There was no response, but Chip dug into his pack and pulled out the extra pair of jeans. They might just do the trick, he thought. At the top corner of the window frame there were two small nails. "All the better," he murmured, hanging the pants on the two nails. It helped, even though it couldn’t keep out all the cold.

Gazing at the small pile of firewood, Chip knew that it wouldn’t last until morning. There had to be more. In desperation, he jerked and pulled the small cabinets until, with a groan of protest, they came off the walls. One of them was easily kicked and pulled apart. The other one he threw on the fire without trying to break it apart. Then he strode back over to Lee, jerking off his glove. This time when he checked for a pulse, he found it quickly enough, but there was no response to his touch. Again he felt that fleeting of panic. He was losing him. Chip shook Crane slightly, then more vigorously. A soft moan greeted his efforts. "Lee!" he called. "Let me know you’re still with me."

"Le’me ‘lone," the injured man muttered, his teeth chattering slightly at the effort.

"You can’t go to sleep just yet," Chip responded.

One eye opened, gazing at him indignantly. "Why th’ell not?"

Chip grinned. "Because Nikki would kill us if we died here."

Both eyes opened; a bit of curiosity in their depths. A grimace touched the slightly blue lips.

Chip took it as a half-hearted smile and continued, "I’m about finished getting this place as, um, weather-proofed as I can and I put more wood on the fire. Even if it warms up, we may have to take turns keeping watch so the fire doesn’t go out."

Lee sighed deeply and moaned as he tried to move. "Don’ know if I can."

"Stay with me a little longer. Keep me focused while I try to get it warmer and then we can buddy up on your bed and keep each other warm if we do both go to sleep."

Lee barely nodded his head and then shivered violently, the action causing him to bite his lip. "Wad’ya want me t’do?"

Chip could tell Lee was trying hard to keep his teeth from chattering. He was only half succeeding. "Talk to me. That will help me stay more fully awake."

"’Kay." He blinked several times and Chip knew the effort was extremely difficult. "Can’ think wha’ t’say," he stuttered next.

Chip couldn’t help it; he chuckled. "Sorry, Lee. I wasn’t laughing at you." Chip began breaking up the branches he had brought from outside. "So what were you going to fix for New Year’s Day?"

"Ribs."

"Oh, man, that recipe you got from my dad?"

"Th’one you can’t fix right."

Snap! The first branch was fairly old and dry, despite the winter precipitation. "Yeah, rub it in, Skipper." Snap, snap! "I still say Dad forgot one of the ingredients when he gave it to me. I still want to look at what you got from him." Crack!

The injured man’s soft chuckle heartened Chip. He continued working on the branches. The second one was greener and harder to break apart. "Where were you planning on getting ribs?"

"Store, Chip," Lee said simply, wry sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah, well, I guess we’d have found some open if we had made it to Logan."

"Yeah."

Chip started breaking the last branch.

"Shh!"

"Huh? What?"

"Quiet!" Lee hissed.

Chip stayed still and then he heard it. It was a scratching at the door. A snuffling, whining that was definitely not the wind.

"Wolf?" Lee asked.

Wolves didn’t attack people. "Coyote, most likely." Chip didn’t want to think of the alternative. Like a bear; one of those big ones that he had seen in Yellowstone Park one time. He kept a tight grip of the branch in his hand.

"Gun. Got one in my pocket," Lee told him, his voice soft.

Chip had forgotten, but he quietly got up and retrieved it from Lee’s coat. Then he crept toward the door.

******

Chapter 5

Just coming in from the field to an almost empty office, Trooper Jeff Allred sat down at his desk. There was a message written in large sharpie by Jeanine. He smiled, then noted more closely just who he was to call. ‘Call Adm. Nelson NOW!’ it said. There was a number written below the note. Somehow he wasn’t surprised. Allred wouldn’t be surprised if Crane’s companion was another member of Seaview’s crew. And there was Hartsfield or Harker or whoever the dead man was. Somehow, Allred figured that the man was not only not in law enforcement; he wasn’t in Naval Intelligence, either.

Allred leaned back in his chair, pushing back from the desk with his long legs, stretching, his mind rehearsing the chaos of the past four or five hours. A glance outside the window showed only snow in a dark sky. He glanced at his watch. It was after sunset. Allred picked up the phone and looked at the number. At the same time he wondered at the claim of the one or two witnesses who swore up and down that Crane had shot the dead man without provocation. He didn’t fault the Logan deputy any. The idea that a cold-blooded killer might be loose in the hills would spook anyone. However, too many things were beginning to add up to something quite different. There was the pistol under the dead man’s body. Hartsfield/Harker’s, he presumed and it was out, not in a holster. It wasn’t Government Issue either. Had he been pointing it at Crane or his buddy? The large man had one, too. An assassination attempt? Allred started at the idea. Then he thought about it. That made much more sense than two respected Navy men going berserk and starting a killing rampage against policemen and civilians.

He dialed the number and wasn’t surprised to have it answered after the first ring. And by the person who answered.

"Nelson here. You’re with the Utah Highway Patrol?"

That didn’t surprise Allred either. "Lieutenant Jeff Allred, sir. Yes, with the Utah Highway Patrol. The secretary left me your number and instructions to call. I just got in."

"Have you found Crane and Morton?"

Morton was the second man, Crane’s companion, Jeff presumed. "No, sir. I was second on the scene, ordered the investigators to examine everything in the area, and we all only finished our work in Sardine Pass about half an hour ago. Finished during the beginnings of one darned monster storm." Allred heard the sucking intake of breath. Yeah, the admiral understood the implications of what he had just said.

"What happened, Lieutenant? What I’ve received has been sketchy at best. And what’s most annoying is the feeding frenzy among the media out here."

"As I said, Admiral, I wasn’t a witness, but I can tell you what others told me." He paused to gather thoughts and breath.

Nelson wasn’t patient at the moment. "Well?"

He smiled. Nelson hadn’t gotten where he was—one submarine having operated successfully for, what, six years now, and another being built—by waiting for things to fall in his lap. "I understand, sir. I have made some of my own conjectures based on what I saw and what I was told. This isn’t courtroom fact."

"I appreciate you being candid with me . . . and for giving me your thoughts, as well."

"I’m not going to give you any tripe, Admiral. We’ve both been around the block a few times. But I hope you won’t pass along what I’m telling you, either, because most of it is not backed up with any kind of raw evidence. It’s a holiday and the boys were only going to get what they had to and will examine and process things more closely on the second."

"I understand," the gruff voice conceded, but Allred could hear the impatience.

"What I was called in for was a shooting on Highway 89/91 north in Sardine Canyon, about a mile and a half past a little town called Mantua. I was told on the way up that a man had shot and killed a policeman and wounded another."

"I didn’t believe it when the investigators called me and I still don’t believe it," Nelson growled. "Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there wasn’t a shooting, but I am questioning what the witnesses thought they saw."

"I agree with you, Admiral. I don’t think it was what it seemed, either." There was a silence on the other end of the line and Allred continued. "When I got there, one man in a Utah policeman’s uniform was dead and another was wounded. Your two men had taken off into the mountain, either heading east or back to Mantua. That couldn’t immediately be determined. From what I found later, it seems that they headed due east. But anyway…." He took a deep breath. "I figured immediately who one of the men was because his overnight bag was still in the rental car. That was Crane. I was told that he and his companion had stopped on the side of the road because of a problem with their vehicle. A police car stopped to help them, presumably…."

"Presumably?"

Allred smiled. "I’ll get to that, sir." Nelson only grunted an assent. "Your men were already out of the car. A witness had stopped to help at about the same time. He claimed that one of the two supposed policemen had gotten out of the car—the one who was injured, not killed and was approaching Crane and—Morton, did you say?"

"Commander Chip Morton, my executive officer on Seaview."

"Yes, sir. Well, anyway, the larger man was talking to Crane, quite close to him, I was informed, when the other man got out the car. I can only guess that your man recognized him. Called out a name—Harker or Hartsfield, depending on who’s telling the story."

There was a sharp intake of breath. "Hartsfield?! Lieutenant, was Hartsfield killed?"

Interesting question, Allred thought. "Yes, Admiral. The witness claims that as soon as Crane called his name, he shot him. Clean shot; immediate death."

"Was the man somewhat short to average height? Slender, with a deformed left hand?"

"Yes, Admiral. You knew him?"

"I knew of him, Lieutenant Allred," the voice answered grimly. "He was an operative in the Office of Naval Intelligence, but he was also working for at least one enemy spy agency when he was uncovered. He was specifically working on assassinating or discrediting Crane and me; and possibly trying to capture my boat. He had Crane’s mother murdered about two and a half years ago. Hartsfield disappeared and has been missing for almost that entire time with only hints of his whereabouts."

The information had been delivered almost bullet-like, very tersely. Allred was stunned. "That explains a lot, Admiral."

"Still, Lee wouldn’t have shot an unarmed man."

"That’s what was witnessed."

"But you have doubts," Nelson said evenly.

Allred was impressed. "Yes, sir. There was a gun under the body. A gun with a silencer."

Nelson paused. "They were trying to assassinate my men," he finally said, his voice hinting at tightly controlled anger. "And Lee and Chip took off because they had no way of knowing who was foe and who was friend."

"You know them better than I do, Admiral, but that would definitely explain their behavior after the shooting."

"And they haven’t shown up anywhere?" Nelson continued before Jeff could continue. "Chip’s, I mean Commander Morton’s wife is in a place called Bear Lake. I was going to meet them there tomorrow, but had so much unfinished work, I wasn’t sure I could." Another pause. "I will now."

"There’s more, Admiral."

"What?"

"The deputy who arrived on the scene said he told them to halt. Crane had fired at a forestry man who had stopped and tried to prevent them from leaving the scene."

"Did he hit him?" Nelson asked.

"No, Admiral. He put a nice neat hole in the bed of the man’s truck."

"I told you Lee wasn’t out to kill anyone."

"Considering how easily he killed Hartsfield, that is a possibility. But there was no way for any of the witnesses to know that. Anyway, with the information the deputy had, he felt he had to keep them from escaping. He said he was aiming over their heads, but he thinks he may have shot one of your men." Allred heard Nelson sucking in his breath.

"But you don’t have them in custody," Nelson replied, his voice tight. "And . . . and you didn’t say you had a body other than Hartsfield’s."

"Mark was beginning to think he hadn’t hit Crane, but…."

"But what?"

"About the time the storm blew in, Mark and I got about two/three miles into the mountains and found a small thicket where your men had rested. There was a trace of blood evidence," Allred told Nelson.

"How do you know it was Lee?"

"Crane was the shooter, sir. He would be the main person to stop." Nelson didn’t say a thing. "All law enforcement and hospitals in the area have been alerted. I’m sorry, Admiral, but they are considered armed and dangerous."

"Dangerous with what?" Nelson snapped. "Morton had a rifle he had been given by his wife’s family at Christmas. No ammunition."

"I will note that, but even if Commander Morton hadn’t bought ammunition—and there is a large Army/Navy surplus store on 89 that sells weapons and ammo—Captain Crane had the pistol he took off the other so-called policeman. It still contained several rounds." Nelson swore under his breath. Allred continued, "But I will also add what you told me, sir."

"You said something about a storm?"

"Yes, sir, snow’s coming down quite heavily now."

"About how long is it supposed to last?"

"Until tomorrow afternoon before clearing out. This one is a big one. A record breaker. Supposed to dump more than a foot, up to a couple of feet along the Wasatch Range, including the area your men are in."

Nelson swore under his breath again. "Which airport would you recommend for a small, private jet?"

"Need a long runway?"

"I’ve landed FS1 on an aircraft carrier if that helps any. If there aren’t any airports in the area, a lake with a thirty, forty foot depth would do."

Allred paused. "A lake, sir?"

"My flying submersible can land on a runway or in water," Nelson explained.

"Oh." Allred considered. "My office is in Brigham City and there is Willard Bay, but with your men in Cache County and the search mainly in that area, I would suggest the Logan Airport, or if Commander Morton’s wife is in Bear Lake, I would suggest that lake."

"Where would my men be taken if they were found soon?"

"With one of them injured, I would say Logan. There’s an excellent hospital there."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. As soon as the weather clears enough to safely fly in, I’ll be up there. I will also contact Chip’s wife and tell her what you’ve told me."

"Admiral, we’ll look for your men as soon as we can. I assure you, we aren’t on a ‘shoot-on-sight’ manhunt. We want to find them alive."

"Thank you," Nelson said. "Please let me know as soon as you hear anything."

"I will, Admiral. Let me give you the number for the Cache County Sheriff’s office, as well."

When they had hung up, Jeff looked out the window at the heavy snow and pondered the odds of anyone being able to find them alive. He wasn’t optimistic.

=====================================

"Would a coyote come calling like that?" Chip asked, feeling a renewing of anxiety. After the kind of luck they had had these past couple of hours, he wasn’t surprised that something would come along to burst the bubble. Chip could see that Lee had his teeth clamped together to prevent them chattering. The fire had brought the temperature up in this little sheepherder’s camp wagon, but it wasn’t enough to make them comfortable by any means. The scratching was punctuated with a whining. Then the creature began barking. "It’s barking! Wolves and coyotes don’t bark—at least not like that!"

"I . . . think it’s a d . . . dog," Lee stuttered, pushing himself up on one elbow.

"What the hell would a dog be doing out in this?"

"Fi . . . figuring out who the id . . . jits are in the tr . . . trailer."

That elicited a grin from Chip. At least Lee had a little of his sense of humor intact. "Well, do I let it in? Sounds persistent."

"Ch . . . check it out, but be…."

"Careful. Yeah, I know." Chip walked softly to the jury-rigged latch and loosed it, opening the door just a crack. A large muzzle of something that looked to be a cross between a Chow, a Golden Retriever and a St. Bernard poked into the space and pushed the door open and out of Chip’s hand. It whined and then bounded in, shaking snow from its thick fur. It was reddish brown as best as Chip could determine with a dark muzzle. The tail wagged a tattoo on the doorframe as he stood gawking at it.

"Sh . . . shut the door!" Lee cried out, shivering even more violently at the cold, powdery stuff the big beast had brought in and scattered in all directions.

"With or without the dog?" But Chip didn’t wait for an answer. He re-‘latched’ the door as the dog pattered a couple of paces toward Lee and sniffed. It gazed at the small fire blazing nearby and then back at the two men. It walked closer to Lee and nuzzled him on the chest enough to overbalance him from the precarious stance he had on his elbow. "Oh, jeez!" he cried out in pain.

Chip was by his side in an instant, pushing the dog aside. The animal didn’t seem to mind too much. He just stood nearby panting. "You okay, Lee?"

"Jus’ hit the d . . . deck wrong," he gasped, glaring at the dog. The dog whined, sitting on its haunches as though this was its normal home.

"Guess I ought to get rid of it, but . . . I wonder," Chip mused, gazing at the dog. It continued panting, slobber dripping from its tongue. Chip felt its neck and found a collar. There was a tag hidden under the thick fur. Butch. The dog slobbered on his hand, but despite being outside, Butch was warm. He remembered the rock group—Three Dog Night. What was it? Cold was determined by how many dogs it took to keep you warm at night. If that was the case, they each needed about four, but this one, if he would stay, would help keep Lee from suffering any worse from hypothermia and/or shock.

"What? Gonna want t’leave . . . soon." The dog got up and approached Lee again, breathing its doggy breath on him. Crane gazed at the dog. "Warm."

Chip smiled. "When I was staying with Rrarkgrrr I didn’t have a problem staying warm near her," Chip said, referring to his Bigfoot acquaintance of a few years back. (Visions of the Night) "Maybe with the door shut and tied off, he’ll stay."

"Maybe." Lee wasn’t glaring at the dog. Instead he had reached out, scratching beneath Butch’s chin.

"Let me put some more wood on the fire and by then he’ll be dry. He can sleep next to your chest and I’ll sleep between you and the wall."

"Y’ll b’cold," Lee pointed out, yawning.

Chip could tell it was getting harder and harder for Lee to keep his eyes open.

"Any water?"

"Yeah, a little," Chip said as he put some more of the wood, old and new on the fire. He dug in the pack and pulled out the water bottle. He pushed the dog aside and held it for Lee to drink from.

Crane pushed it aside after several large swallows. "Thanks…." He blinked to stay awake and gazed at the dog.

Chip noticed that Lee was studying Butch, even as he tried to stay awake. His friend had understood the necessity of keeping the dog nearby. "Here, boy…" Lee tiredly patted the space in front of him.

"Butch," Chip said. "On the collar."

"’rij’nal," Lee murmured. He tried to snap his fingers, but couldn’t manage it. "Butch," he whispered. Amazingly, the dog seemed to understand what was wanted and climbed up on the platform, plumping down in front of the injured man. Lee laid his left hand on the dog’s coat and promptly fell asleep.

This time Chip didn’t try to keep him awake. He tended the fire a little while longer, finished the water in the bottle and then eased behind Lee to keep his friend’s back warm. The skipper’s shivering eased to something sporadic and Chip was satisfied. Then he found himself dozing off and fought it, thinking about Nikki, the boat, and the day’s adventure. It became harder and harder to stay awake. Only for a few minutes, he told himself, yawning. The dog snored softly and Chip drifted off, wondering if the combination of the dog and the fire would keep them from freezing to death during the night.

******

Chapter 6

Don Farnsworth gazed at the large snowflakes settling themselves on his shoulders as he left the milking barn. It was going to be a real pain getting to the barn in the morning. Of course, that meant the cows would probably stick close, even staying in the outer barn to stay warm, but still….

He walked through the entranceway of the ‘mud room’ of the farmhouse, hurriedly closing the door behind him, and reveled in the warmth that greeted him. Quickly he pulled off his boots and outer work coveralls, hanging them on a hook to put back on in the morning. Then when all outward vestiges of his time in the milking barn were gone except for the slight residue scent that marked his occupation, Farnsworth walked into the kitchen. He settled his feet into the slippers waiting by the kitchen door and sighed as his body realized and relished the impending downtime. Sniffing, he found himself anticipating nachos and salsa and other delectables his wife, Julia had made for New Year’s Eve enjoyment. Her barbecued meatballs made him wish for New Years all year long.

A mug of hot apple cider was waiting on the cabinet by the stove and he grabbed it gratefully, letting its warmth take the chill from his hands before he let it warm his belly. There were two more mugs waiting for the boys when they finished their chores. "Don?" his wife’s voice sounded from downstairs in the family room.

"Yep, the boys and I are finished, and Mark and Will are feeding the cows. I am ready to relax the rest of the evening," he called down the stairs. "Whether I make it to the dropping of the ball or not remains to be seen." He chuckled. It was a family joke. The ball in New York City fell at ten o’clock here. It was still difficult at times to make it. When you had to get up at four thirty in the morning you just didn’t last too late at night.

"That big lummox come in with you?"

"Butch?" he asked, knowing even as he asked, that it was a redundant question. "Nope. He’s out playing around in the snow, I guess." Farnsworth started down the steps to the basement that had been made into a large family room, entertainment center and library. A bathroom and the boy’s bedrooms were the only things that decreased the large area. The other bedrooms were upstairs.

"He’s getting too old for that," Julia muttered.

"He’ll probably come in with the boys," Don said reassuringly. He plumped down on the couch next to his wife and sipped his cider. "Heard from Leesa and Tommy?" he asked, hoping his daughter and son weren’t going to come home tonight if the weather continued as it was. There were several of their friends in Hyrum they could stay with if need be.

"Yes, Brother Mortensen* is going to bring them home by seven thirty in his four by four," she replied.

"Hmm," was all he said and then he sighed. "Well, if they get here by then, they should be okay."

"Snow still coming down hard?"

"Yeah. The kids are going to have a ball sleigh riding at Hardware Ranch**, but they’re going to come home cold and wet," he said, chuckling. "I believe you will need to heat up some more cider in a while."

She just snuggled closer. "Got an hour before that."

"It’s going to be a pain tomorrow morning, but it’ll sure be good for the snow pack," he replied. She snuggled closer and didn’t say anything. They listened to the stereo and cuddled until the older boys came tromping into the house. The couple was still stealing kisses when their sons galloped down the stairs and joined them.

"Hey, Dad, Butch show up?" Mark asked, totally ignoring his parent’s preoccupation with one another.

Don reluctantly pulled himself back from his wife’s lips. "No, he didn’t come for you?"

Mark and Will shook their heads in unison.

"He’s okay, boys."

"Yeah, but he’s old," Mark replied.

Julia just glanced at him smugly.

"And you want me to do what, when and in what weather?" Don asked sardonically.

"Dad!"

His look froze the boys’ next protest. "Now boys, I am not going out in this looking for a dog that could find his way home from St. George if he wanted to."***

The boys sighed and clumped back upstairs. The couple heard the back door open and then Mark and Will calling for their beloved dog, their voices muted. The door closed and soon their sons were slowly stomping back down the stairs. Neither one of them said anything, only plopped down on two beanbag chairs near the fire.

The crackling fire and numerous deep and seemingly heart wrenching sighs broke the silence for the space of three minutes. Then Will said, "Dad?"

"Mmm?"

"If he’s not back by the time Leesa and Tommy come home?"

Now Don sighed. "Do you realize how tough it will be to go out in snowmobiles in the middle of a storm even over land we know well?" The boys just looked at him. "No, there will be no going out until tomorrow morning. I can’t risk it. Not even for Butch." The boys started to speak but something in their father’s look stopped them. "There are no cows calving this time of year, so Butch should be home before long." If he hadn’t known better, Don would have figured the dog to be related to Nana, the nanny-dog from Peter Pan. During the spring, Butch was constantly finding and playing nurse-maid to newborn calves and lambs—that is when the mothers would let him. Don had to admit, the dog had saved several of his calves and a few of the neighbor’s lambs when they had been abandoned.

"Maybe he found someone’s ewe to play aunt to," Mark suggested. "And when you go out, I’ll go with you, Dad."

Don snorted. "I’m not going alone. So indeed you will."

The family lapsed into an uneasy silence for a few more minutes before anyone spoke again. "Can we turn on the TV?" Will asked.

"Sure, we can watch an old movie."

They all watched in companionable silence, munching on goodies and drinking hot cider. When the two younger children came home the ‘poor old Butch’ litany was renewed. By ten o’clock, with the snow still coming down, albeit without the brisk wind of earlier in the day, Farnsworth was checking out the snowmobiles for a run in the storm the following morning. By eleven, he was in bed, asleep. Four-thirty a.m. would come very quickly.

=====================================

Lee pulled out of a fog of pain and lethargy, hearing the whining of some system going critical. There was smoke everywhere and it was hot. Even as he began coughing, the whining grew louder and more insistent and turned into a protesting bark. His mind tried to pull what his senses were telling him together with the hazy recollections of what had happened before he had fallen asleep. They weren’t on Seaview. They had sheltered from a storm in a trailer. He and Chip were running from Hartsfield’s cronies and the law in northern Utah. He had been shot and was sharing space with a dog. Dog! "Chip!" he cried out. At the same time he heard coughing from behind and Chip’s voice calling to him. The dog was not lying in front of him now, but he was barking incessantly.

Opening his eyes, Lee saw the end of the trailer engulfed in flames. The dog was running frantically between him and the door. He realized that Chip was behind him, his hands trying to push him off the platform they had been laying on.

"Out!" Chip kept calling in between fits of coughing.

His own coughing caused pain to flare up and down his back, but that was shoved to the background as he scrambled to get away from the fire. Lee stumbled toward the door, feeling Chip’s hands still behind him. The dog was yelping, and pushing, then clawing at the makeshift latch Chip had constructed. Just as he and Chip reached it, the door gave way and precious, if freezing air hit them, clearing the last of the cobwebs from his mind.

"Get away from the trailer," Chip shouted the obvious. They got.

Butch kept barking, running ahead of them, prancing through the snow. He would occasionally stop and turn back, barking his encouragement. Lee stumbled over something under the snow, but pushed himself back up. Chip grabbed his arm to help.

"I’m okay," he reassured his friend automatically.

"Yeah, but now we don’t have a shelter," Chip growled in self-recrimination. "Shouldn’t have let myself go to sleep."

They plowed through the almost foot and a half deep snow farther away from the old trailer and then stopped and looked back. The dog sat on his haunches, his long tail clearing snow in a fanlike swath behind him. He looked up at them and whined. The fire made the animal look even redder, almost like a tiny extension of the flame itself. Butch’s eyes were large round mirrors of the catastrophe.

"Chip, how long did you stand watch after I went to sleep?" Lee asked pointedly.

"I don’t know. Last time I looked at my watch it was a little after midnight."

Lee thought quickly. "Full watch after the hike. You did more than your share." He heard Chip sigh. "Quit beating yourself up. It’s been a helluva night." Lee gazed up at the snow that continued to drift down on them. He was still tired—very, very tired, and still cold. He could feel the bullet grating against his shoulder blade and radiating pain across his back. However, for the moment, he was awake and aware of what was around him. How long that would remain, he didn’t have a clue.

A tiny light switched on and Lee was amazed to see that Chip still had his flashlight. Not only that, but his friend still had his pack, too. Chip saw his gaze and just gave a rueful shrug. "Was close and I grabbed it on the way out."

Lee gazed at the fire again. The trailer was fully engulfed now. The heat was almost uncomfortable. Roasting on one side and freezing on the other. "So I guess we hit the trail again, right?"

"Can’t just stand here," Chip agreed. "But it’s going to be hard going in the dark. We walk until we find something to hunker down in. A thicket or something."

Lee nodded wearily. Some of the lethargy was settling back in now that the rush of danger was over. "Well, let’s go." He turned slowly and looked into the darkness. The dog, sensing their decision, barked and bounced into the darkness, danced back, looked over his shoulder and barked again.

"What did we do, get Lassie or Rin Tin Tin?" Lee muttered as he watched the dog.

"Well, he has a collar. We’re near someone’s place, if the fence is any indication," Chip observed. He followed the dog, which had easily slipped between the bottom and middle strands of the wire, but stopped at the fence. "I think we should follow him. He’s going in the direction we need to be heading anyway."

"I don’t know if I can make it over the fence, Chip."

"I’ll help you." Chip held one strand down with his foot and lifted the other up with his hands.

Still, it was difficult to bend enough to go between the strands and Lee almost slipped and fell before he got through. He couldn’t believe that someone who was so adept at crawling through access panels and air conditioning ducts could be so clumsy now. It was with difficulty that he straightened up. By the time he had, Chip had somehow wormed his way through the strands of barbed wire and was standing beside him. Butch barked just inside their line of sight. "Maybe he’s looking for a place to hunker down, too," Lee suggested. He felt warm wetness on his back and knew he had torn loose the bandage Chip had applied so many hours ago.

"I’ll use my flashlight as long as I can to follow Butch and then we won’t have a choice; we’ll have to find a place to stay until light. At least that won’t be more than a couple of hours."

Lee only nodded and followed. He realized Chip had the harder task, plowing through the snow and making a path for him, but right now, he couldn’t argue the point. They trudged along, the dog bouncing ahead of them, sometimes coming back and barking his request for them to hurry.

"You’d think he had to be somewhere before daybreak," Chip grumbled.

"Think he’s going to turn into a bat?" Lee countered, not the least bit caring either way. He didn’t even look up, simply watched the dim tracks by the slight glow of Chip’s tiny flashlight.

"Well, if so, that means he’ll lead us to his mansion."

Lee didn’t respond, only concentrated on following Chip, who was closely following the dog. Hopefully, the animal wasn’t taking them on some kind of wild goose chase. The snow continued falling, but there was no wind at the moment. The flakes were large, coming down thickly. They forged ahead. The world narrowed to individual steps, one after the other. One weary foot and then another, over and over again. Interminable trudging.

"A thicket ahead, Lee," Chip said, stopping so suddenly that Crane bumped into him.

The cold was seeping back into his body, numbing his hands and feet. He was shivering again and didn’t trust himself to say more than necessary. He just murmured, "Okay." Chip began walking again, but Lee found it impossible to take a step. Chip walked toward their next shelter. The dog bounded back toward him, barking his disapproval. That was when Chip turned and saw him still standing there. Without comment, he returned and then draped the injured man’s arm over his shoulder. Only then was Lee able to move. "Sorry, Chip."

"Just a little more and we’ll bed down where the snow won’t reach us," Chip encouraged.

"’kay," Lee mumbled.

The thicket, when they reached it, was a line of trees and then bushes that seemed to grow almost right up against the side of a steep, rocky hillock. A slight overhang gave some protection from the snow and that was where the two men finally rested. Lee collapsed against the side of the hill with a grunt of pain. Chip dropped beside him. The dog followed and whined his disapproval.

"You’re warm, join us," Chip coaxed. The dog came in and nuzzled them, then whined again.

Lee watched wearily. "Think he’s hearing somethin’?" Despite the chill of the stone and earth behind him, the injured shoulder burned. The rest of his body felt like a block of ice. Lee realized just how good he had it back in that trailer between the dog and his friend with a warm fire nearby. He also realized again, just how stupid this little venture had been. Why the hell had he allowed his old ONI paranoia to surface like that? Now they were both in danger, not from his past, but from the elements. Lee shuddered and let the last of his sparse energy seep away.

****

Chapter 7

When Farnsworth woke up the next morning; he noticed two things in quick succession. First, the electricity had gone out sometime in the middle of the night. That meant he’d have to start up the diesel generator to run the milking machines. The second thing he realized as he woke Mark and Will to help him, and then tramped out to the barn was that the old dog hadn’t returned home in the night. Butch not only wasn’t at the door, he hadn’t curled up to sleep in the barn. Don felt the niggling of worry, but couldn’t help that right now. Milking came first. He powered up the generator and then prepared everything for the morning ritual. The cows were waiting under the roof of the holding shed and the dairyman let them in to eat while he milked them.

The boys dashed in as the last cow came through the door. They knew the routine and one began to wipe down the udders as the other one supplied the feed to the hungry cows. Mark and Will seemed to work with increased speed this morning and he knew that they were eager to go hunt for the dog. You could only speed up the process so much, but still, they set off on two snowmobiles before the sun rose. The snow and low clouds delayed the sunrise and even when it became a bit lighter, it was difficult to discern anything with clarity. The going was extremely slow. The boys called every time Don slowed his snowmobile to listen. By now, the wind had picked up again and the snow was more biting than it had been last night. The temperature had dropped as well and the clouds of their breath puffed like steam from an old train engine.

As Farnsworth and his sons approached the western-most reaches of his land, he slowed his snowmobile and gazed around. Not that there was that much to be seen in the snowstorm, but still, he looked and then pulled the hood of his parka back and listened. The boys supplied the lungpower to call the old dog.

"Dad," Mark called, suddenly by his side. "I was sure I saw some kind of light over that way when we started out." The boy pointed toward the boundaries of the Farnsworth land.

"I did, too," Will corroborated. "About where the old sheepherder’s camp trailer is."

He nodded and they headed off in that direction. It only took another quarter of a mile to realize that something was not right. When they slowed down near the fence line, Don was startled. Where is the trailer? he wondered. They should have seen it by now. He faced the direction where the old wooden structure had laid peacefully deteriorating for years and saw—nothing. No, not nothing, there was a pile of debris. Then it struck him. It was a pile of debris not covered with snow. Then he was able to detect some deep orange glow under the mound of blackened wood, winking a dying light, even as the daylight strengthened. The boys had truly seen a light—the light of a fire. A fire that was the old structure burning. But how could a fire start out here during this kind of weather. The storm had begun with a couple of booms of thunder, which would denote lightning, a thunder snowstorm. But as rare as that phenomenon was, even rarer would be lightning striking something during a snowstorm. And besides, if by some chance lightning had started the fire, that old trailer would have burned and the embers died hours ago.

"Dad, the trailer burnt down. That’s what we saw before. Butch wouldn’t have been in it, would he?" Mark asked, his voice almost plaintive.

"No, he wouldn’t get that close to a fire."

"But the only way a fire could have started would be if someone . . . started it," Mark continued. "And if there was someone out here, Butch…."

If there was someone out here, Don thought, it could only be those two fugitives that Brother Mortensen had told him about when he brought the kids home last night. The two who had killed the cop out in Sardine Canyon. Jim had said the news people had made a big to-do about the entire thing. The men were Navy from that big civilian submarine out in California. One of them had been that guy released by the People’s Republic at Christmas.

If they had made it this far—and at the time he had heard about them, Don hadn’t given them much chance of that, being submarine jockeys…. But if they had made it this far, could they make it farther to the house? Julia and Tommy and Leesa were there alone and these men were supposed to be armed…. Now he wished he had taken time to see the ten o’clock news last night.

He turned to Will and Mark. "Get out the rifle. Keep it ready, Mark, while Will drives. Safety on, but ready." Even through the masks he could see their questioning looks. Apparently the kids had not been told. Of course, the weather situation had made that unnecessary, he figured.

And now wasn’t the time or the place to explain it to the boys. There were rapidly filling depressions in the snow around them, but it was impossible to see where the fugitives might have gone. Don was still amazed at how far the men had come, but then the only obstacle were the mountains themselves, not the distance. It wasn’t that far from Sardine Pass, only about seven and a half miles. He felt the need to return home and make sure his wife and daughter were all right. Butch would have to take care of himself.

He pulled out the walkie-talkie and called the house. "Julz, we are at the western end. We’re going to come back in." He heard her relieved voice, and then her worry. She was picking up his anxiety. "We’ll be back soon, dear," he reassured her. "You just keep the doors locked until we get there." He could hear her sigh and then her acknowledgement.

"Follow behind me," he instructed the boys after he had cut the communications. He made as tight a circle as he could in the new snow and headed back toward the house by the fastest route he could take. They couldn’t go as fast as he’d like because of the condition of the snow, but still, they were heading home and he wasn’t seeing any new tracks.

It was when they were nearing one of the small mountain streambeds that he almost flipped the machine in shock. Dancing out in front of him was a big wooly shape. It was Butch, bouncing up and down, barking wildly, whirling like some kind of mad dervish, scattering powdery snow everywhere.

"Butch!" the boys cried out together, stopping their machine and jumping off toward the old dog.

"Boys! Will, Mark!" he called out, suddenly feeling the hairs at the back of his neck prickle. "Get back to your snowmobile. Get the rifle."

They paused and looked at him quizzically.

"Now," he said more calmly.

"But why?"

"I’ll explain later. Just do it." Don saw movement in the brush from which Butch had appeared and a tall figure emerged into the dusky light.

The man paused with his hand in front of his face to shield from the intense beam of the light and then moved forward a few more steps. "You c . . . can’t believe how re…."

"No closer," Don commanded. The man stopped. Don could tell that he was in the beginnings of hypothermic distress. Not only had he slurred the beginning of his sentence, the man was shaking with cold. He could also see that the stranger had no weapons in his gloved hands. Still….

===============================

Chip and Lee huddled together under the overhang for warmth; the former hoping the dog would stay with them. Lee was again floating somewhere in and out of consciousness. Butch whined every once in a while, but at Chip’s urging, he continued to lie across their legs, providing some measure of warmth. This time, the hardness of the ground, as well as the cold kept him from doing more than doze periodically. That was only as it should be, Chip thought. He needed to be more vigilant. Maybe if they hung on till dawn, he could start a fire. Of course he’d have to have some dry wood. Chip wished he could start one now. At least if he had been able to start a fire, there wouldn’t be a structure to burn down. However, since the flashlight had died about the time they had reached here, he couldn’t do anything until the sun came up.

After a short time in which he had fallen into a restless doze, Chip consulted his watch and saw that it was after 0700. The dog began whining again, and then sat up. The warmth dissipated almost immediately. Lee groaned softly as the dog shifted from his position. "Stay, Butch," Chip coaxed. The dog whined in the soft darkness, but didn’t leave. He didn’t lay back down either. Had he heard something? Chip shivered as the chill seeped even deeper into his bones. Soon. He would have to go looking for firewood soon.

The dog whined louder and then moved away from them and out of the thicket. Lee mumbled something. "Shh!" Chip commanded and strained to hear what Butch was hearing. Very distant, very soft he began to hear something like an engine—but what kind, he wondered? It ebbed softer and louder, telling Chip that the wind had picked up. The dog whined again from beyond their shelter and Chip knew someone was approaching. He had to try and make contact. For Lee’s sake. For both of them….

He pulled away from the injured man and stiffly got to his knees, then to his feet.

"Wha’?"

"I think there’s someone out there, Lee. I’m going to check." There was no response from the other man. "I’ll be right back."

"Bring s’ coffee w’ you," came the slurred response.

A brief smile touched Chip’s lips before he resolutely clambered out of the thicket. He shivered violently as the colder air hit him. The sound of engines came louder and closer and the dog was dancing in the growing light beside him. Butch knew these people, but how would they feel about him and Lee, he wondered.

Chip saw a couple of lights wavering, highlighted, in the fog of the still falling snow. There were two of them. ‘Cats or other snow terrain vehicles. Snowmobiles, he finally figured, coming, he thought from the direction of the burned trailer. He shivered again and clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. He laid a hand on the dog’s back and he stayed with him, even though Butch danced and whined impatiently at his side. Chip suddenly began to worry that the machines would speed right past them. He didn’t dare go too far from their shelter for fear he wouldn’t be able to find it again in the blowing snow. "Go on, Butch," he said, giving the dog a slight push.

The animal shot forward, needing no other urging, barking and yapping. It worked. The snowmobiles stopped and Chip heard shouts of joy and laughter. This was some loved dog, he thought, that would have the owners out in conditions like this looking for him. Good for him and Lee, though. Still, he suspected they weren’t going to stick around long. He needed to take advantage of the opportunity before it abandoned them. The people weren’t too far ahead of him. He tried to give a shout, but his voice came out wavery and weak. Chip walked toward the blurry forms of the snowmobiles and heard the voices more distinctly. Boys or young men. He would have to be careful. If they had heard about him and Lee, they might be a bit trigger-happy.

Suddenly he was in the glare of one of the snowmobile’s lights, and Chip threw up a hand to shield his eyes. "You c . . . can’t believe how re…." he began and was interrupted.

"No closer," a man commanded.

Chip complied, slowly lowering his hand from his face as his eyes became used to the glaring light. "My friend…." The man didn’t stop him from talking. "He’s hurt." His teeth began chattering. "N . . . needs medical at . . . tention," Chip forced out. "Please."

"You got any weapons?"

Weapons? Obviously the guy had heard about their little escapades. The gun Lee gave him. "Yeah, but it’s in my pocket, safety on." With effort, he was able to prevent his teeth from chattering. Chip could only feel the urgent need to get Lee out of here and someplace warm. "However you want me to deal with it, I will. But my friend…."

"Mark, keep the rifle trained on him," the man told his companion.

"Sure, Dad," Mark said, even though there was a hint of question in the young man’s voice.

"You stand very still with your hands away from your sides," the man commanded again.

Chip stood still while the man took away the gun.

"Nothing else?"

Chip shook his head and felt the muscles in that little movement protest. He realized that he was feeling the effects of the cold more drastically than he had thought. "No. My rifle was burned in the fire. Wasn’t loaded any . . .way."

"Your partner is close by?" the man asked, even as he walked back to his snowmobile.

"Yes, sir. He’s injured…. The cold…."

"Broke something?" The man’s voice was closer again.

"No. Shot."

"What? Did you say he was shot?"

"Back in Sardine Pass." Chip stopped. Now wasn’t the time. "Please, he’s not doing very well."

"Mark, you come a little closer and then turn your machine around. Will, you come with us." They approached the thicket and the man stopped. "You picked a good one," he murmured.

"Not as good as that trailer," Chip said, the relief almost choking him now that they would be getting help. It seemed to warm him, too, giving him extra strength. "Lee," he called out in a loud voice. "Calvary has arrived." There was no reply and Chip, suddenly alarmed, plunged between the branches, not caring about anything hitting his face. "Lee!"

"Bout time," came the slow response. Lee was still alive, Chip thought, relief flooding through him.

The man came right after him and knelt next to Crane, a flashlight examining the injured man. "Where?" Concern seemed to be the only thing coloring the man’s voice now.

"Back, up near the shoulder," Chip replied tersely. "Lee, we’re going to get you out of here. I know it will hurt and I know you’re tired, but we’re finally going to get some help."

"You get on his injured side and I’ll take most of his weight on this side," the man said, not wasting time.

Chip grabbed his pack, handed it out to the teen-aged boy just outside the thicket, and then he squatted down next to his friend. "Just a little bit more of this and then we’ll be safe."

"Y’have th’ conn," came the mumbled response and then a soft groan as Chip and the man lifted Lee from the ground.

"How in the world did you two make it this far?" the man asked incredulous as they emerged from the thicket.

Despite his fears for his friend and captain, Chip felt curiously buoyant. They had been found. Lee would be all right. "Still trying to figure that one out ourselves. Lots of luck, I guess," he said and then paused, sobering. "We’ve been through some hard things before. This is another one."

"And you two work on that submarine out in California?"

"Yes, sir," he replied, sucking in a cold breath of air. Lee was trying to take steps, but the snow had to be close to two feet in places by now and it was hard to move through it. Butch greeted them all with a bark. "Seaview."

The man grunted but didn’t say anything else. It was obvious to Chip that he was curious, but any questions would have to wait until they were someplace safe. The sky was getting lighter, making the flashlight unnecessary.

"Do you think your friend could ride between my boys on their snowmobile and you ride behind me?" he asked as they reached the two machines.

"I don’t know about Lee…."

"Yes," Lee gasped out.

"Okay," the man began, "Mark, put the rifle away. You’ll drive. Will, you’ll help…." He paused and then addressed Chip. "Who did you say you two were?"

"This is Lee Crane and I’m Chip Morton."

"Don Farnsworth and these are my oldest boys, Mark and Will. This is part of my dairy farm. Near the south end of Cache Valley."

"Thank you, Mr. Farnsworth, Mark, Will," Chip replied solemnly, feeling somewhat vindicated in his navigation over the mountains. When Lee was settled between the two, very capable looking young men, Chip shuffled over to Farnsworth’s machine and got on behind the dairyman. He felt exhaustion settling over him. They had been found, they were going to be safe, Lee was going to get the medical attention he needed. He would hopefully be able to get back to Nikki soon. That was all that mattered right now. He put his arms around the man’s waist and they took off, the boys right behind them. The dog bounced through the snow after them, barking at first and then concentrating on following in the tracks the machines made after a while.

****

*I tried to make the conversational tone as accurate as possible. As I mentioned in the introduction, most of the time the Farnsworth’s would refer to fellow members of the LDS Church as brother or sister so and so. BTW Don Farnsworth is based on a real family that I once knew. They lived between Avon and Paradise and had a very large dairy. Sometimes we’d buy milk directly from them. Allred (the highway patrolman) is another common name in that area. The ancestry in that part of the West is British, Scottish and Scandinavian, predominately the latter in northern Utah, southern Idaho.

**Hardware Ranch is a sort of refuge in a canyon directly east of Hyrum, Utah. In the winter there are sleigh rides into the canyon where migrating elk are fed hay every winter. Hyrum is about halfway between Paradise on the southern end of Cache Valley and Logan, which is about midpoint in the valley. It’s a favorite place for church groups to have outings….sleigh rides in the winter and hay rides in the summer.

***St. George—the joke here is that St. George is on the very southern point of Utah. It takes about 7 hours (depending on traffic in Salt Lake City) by car to get from St. George to Logan. It’s actually not that far from St. George to Las Vegas, NV.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Eight

**They saw the old farmhouse a short while before they got there. Chip eyed it hungrily, knowing of the warmth it would afford. He also realized this would give him the opportunity to let Nikki know that he was all right. Nikki-what had she been thinking through the past twenty hours? Surely she wouldn’t have believed what the scene probably looked like. Still, she had to have been worried. He had been worried.**

**On the trip back, Farnsworth had contacted his wife with a walkie-talkie and informed her that he was bringing Chip and Lee home with him. When they got to the house, he drove his machine right up to the back door. Chip slowly slid off, feeling his joints creak painfully. In this he would have to agree with Lee-despite the fact that he was a Chicago boy; this was just too cold to be out in. He stumbled and felt the farmer’s hand steadying him. He turned to the other machine that had parked next to them. The younger boy had slid off and was apparently trying to figure out how to help Lee, who hadn’t moved. He was slumped over Mark, who seemed perplexed as to how to proceed, too.**

**Chip started to help the boy, but was held back by Farnsworth. "If you think you can make it into the house on your own, the boys and I will get your friend."**

**Chip realized that the farmer was right. He really couldn’t help Lee right now. The main thing was for them to get into the warmth. Chip headed for the door, which was opened by a middle-aged, medium height, dark-haired woman. He figured she was Farnsworth’s wife.**

**"I’m sure you’re half frozen. Come in quickly, please." She told him as she passed him and went out the door.**

**"Yes, ma’am, gladly," Chip responded as he walked into the warmth of a large hallway. The heat seemed to envelope him, caressing him with fingers of safety and relief. "Thank you," he breathed. He turned to see how Lee was doing and saw the others just coming through the outer door. Chip went on through this alcove area and into an even warmer kitchen. A large oil lantern lit the room.**

**"Dad called and told us he was bringing you here," a girl who looked to be about twelve said to him, her gray eyes large in curiosity as well as a little . . . fear, Chip wondered?**

**"I know and I’m grateful to him," Chip said, his voice rough as though it needed to thaw, too.**

**"If you’ll sit here, I can give you some water or hot cider…. If you want some," the girl added.**

**Even the hard wooden chair was warm. Chip pulled his gloves off and placed his hands flat on the small kitchenette table, feeling the warmth seep into his stiff fingers. He got up as Farnsworth and his wife and one boy helped Lee in. The woman gazed at him meaningfully for a moment and then looked back at her husband. Apparently they had talked while bringing Lee in.**

**Lee groaned softly and Chip was immediately next to him. "Lee?" They got the injured man to a chair in the kitchen where he immediately laid his head on a table.**

**"I’m going to call an ambulance," Farnsworth said, taking two steps to the phone by the door through which they had just come. In the light of the bright kitchen it was obvious the damage the bullet had done by the large stain on the back of Lee’s coat.**

**"Chip?" Lee asked, his voice shaky from the cold. He didn't raise his head from the table to speak.**

**Chip sat down next to him. "Yeah?"**

**There was a sigh and then, "If I’ve died . . . and I’m in hell…." There was a longer pause and Chip was afraid Crane had lost consciousness. "Le’ me stay…." Lee finally said with weary decisiveness.**

**Chip cocked an eyebrow in surprise, heard a soft cough and looked up to see the woman’s mouth quirked into a smile.**

**Then she became all business. "This is the worst snowstorm I have ever seen in this part of the country. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for someone to get out here. The lights have been off since early this morning. I can guarantee that although they are extremely efficient, the plows haven’t been able to keep up with _this_ snowstorm." She studied Chip for another moment and he was reminded of his mother’s scrutiny at times when he was suspected of having done something wrong. Then she added softly, "I don’t understand what happened over there in the pass, but Don assured me you two are unarmed and in need of help. Until the proper authorities are able to come, I will not refuse you that help, especially your companion here." She paused, even as her gaze rested on Lee, the bloodstained coat and his apparent lassitude. "But I’ve got the children to think about."**

**Chip couldn’t blame her concern. "Ma’am, my name is Commander Chip Morton, this is my commanding officer, Captain Lee Crane. I don’t know what was reported, but Lee shot in self-defense. The other man wasn’t a cop or official of any kind. He was an enemy agent who had arranged the deaths of several people a couple of years back and had a particular reason for wanting Lee dead." He looked back at Lee, who hadn’t moved. "Regardless, I won’t do anything to your children or to you or your husband, Mrs. Farnsworth. I know Lee wouldn’t either."**

**She nodded and pulled another chair near Crane. "My name is Julia, Commander." She turned back to Lee. The two younger children stood near the other doorway, their eyes large and round, and simply stared. Julia Farnsworth looked up at them and said, "Go in and make sure the fire in the living room is banked up and that there’s plenty of wood. Also fix up the hide-a-bed couch so Captain Crane and Commander Morton can have a comfortable place to rest until an ambulance comes. It will be warmer in there."**

**The boy and girl left and Julia turned back to Morton. "Can I assume this is a gunshot wound from that enemy agent?" Before he could answer, she turned to Mark. "Start the kettle boiling. At the very least, these men need something warm to drink."**

**Chip figured that everyone in five states, maybe the whole country would have heard about the incident and he was curious that she apparently didn’t have much information. "No, ma'am, it wasn’t from Hartsfield. It was from a Utah policeman, I think. Or a rubber-necking wanna-be cowboy," he added.**

**She considered and her face took on a more serious demeanor. "He’s probably lost more than a fair share of blood. Especially since you’ve been hiking through the mountains." She felt Lee’s forehead and he jerked his head up before laying it back down. Julia turned to her husband. "Don, are they coming? We’re not just dealing with hypothermia and exhaustion here."**

**He had put the phone down. "Phone’s dead. Been a long time since we’ve had a storm quite like this one. I don’t even remember the last time we lost our services for this long."**

**Chip blanched. "Mr. Farnsworth, my wife’s at Bear Lake. She’s probably worried sick. And there’s Lee, too. Do you have any idea how long it’ll be?"**

**Farnsworth shook his head. "We’ll get electricity before phone, I venture," he said, not unkindly. "Of course, since we don’t have phone service, we’ll probably get a visit from Brother, uh, Jim Mortensen before too long. He’s our home teacher. That’s a neighbor who keeps his eye on us, helps us out in times of need. He lives right in Paradise. Has a short wave radio, too."**

**Chip raised an eyebrow. "And he’d get out in this?"**

**"Has a snowmobile like I do. Has a small ‘cat, too."**

**"I guess we’ll just have to wait," Chip said with a sigh.**

**Julia leaned toward Lee and pulled his gloves off. "Captain. We need to get your coat off. Check your wound. Re-bandage it." When he didn’t immediately respond, she repeated, "Captain?"**

**Lee stirred again. "’kay," he replied, opening his eyes languidly and studying the woman’s face. He pushed back from the table and slowly sat up, trying to also push away the tremendous lassitude the warmth had produced. Not that he hadn’t already felt like curling up somewhere and shoving the world aside…. "Name’s Lee."**

**"Help me get his coat off," Julia said to her husband as she undid the faux bone buttons of his sheepskin coat. "Lee, this is going to probably be very uncomfortable."**

**He sighed. "Been uncomf’t’ble . . . since we left that . . . uh…." _What was the name of that place, _he wondered disjointedly_. _"Uh, left Maddox."**

**She raised an eyebrow. Carefully, they eased off the coat and Julia stared aghast at the blood soaked shirt underneath. "I don’t want to do more than I have to because I’m not a doctor, but we have to get this bandaged."**

**"Chip bandaged," Lee began, but he wasn’t able to finish. Now that she had begun, the woman wasn’t wasting time. Lee felt the torn muscles protesting every movement, but he held his peace, biting his lip to keep from moaning.**

**"Will, bring in the first aid kit," she said without looking up.**

**"Already got it, Mom." The young man set a large tackle box on the table and opened it up for his mother.**

**Chip came back and sat down near him. Lee remembered that he was trying to call Nikki. "She okay, Chip?" he asked, bringing his senses back into more awareness.**

**Chip shook his head. "Don’t know. Phone service is out."**

**Lee only sighed as the woman unbuttoned his shirt. He reached feebly to help, but she wordlessly pushed his hand away.**

**"What can I do, ma’am?" Chip asked.**

**"Take off your coat and have something warm to drink," she said tersely.**

**Chip did as he was told. Will gave him a glass of water that he quaffed down. The effect of the lukewarm water hitting his stomach was evident for all to see. With a sigh, he handed the glass back the young man, who refilled it for him.**

**"Spare some, Mr. Morton," Lee growled, eyeing the liquid jealously. He was so thirsty all of a sudden. And it didn’t matter what it was as long as it was wet.**

**Chip flashed him a brief grin. "You’ll get yours when Mrs. Farnsworth is finished with you, Skipper."**

**"Indeed, you will, Lee. You need to re-hydrate." She continued to administer to him with a quick efficiency. When the wet gauze she was using to clean around the wound touched his skin, Lee shivered violently. "I’m sorry, Captain. I am being as quick and gentle as I can."**

**Crane took a shuddering breath. "I know."**

**"Mark, go get one of your dad’s clean flannel shirts and his robe. Make sure Leesa and Tommy have fixed the living room for our guests."**

**"Sure, Mom," the older boy said and exited the room.**

**"So you pilot a submarine?" she asked as she finished cleaning around the still seeping wound.**

**Lee repressed another shudder. "Yes, ma’am. Chip is my XO."**

**"_Seaview_, ma’am," Chip added, watching the proceedings.**

**"You two forget my name? I’m Julia, not ma’am. And what in the world brought you this far east?" she asked, placing clean gauze pads on the wound. "By the way, I’m not going to do a thing to the actual wound, Lee, except cover it with a sterile dressing. When you are in a hospital and in a doctor’s care, they can deal with it better than I can."**

**"I ‘preciate all you’re doing, Julia," Lee said then sucked in a quick breath. The area right around the wound seemed intensely sensitive.**

**"My wife’s relatives invited us out for New Year’s," Chip explained. "Some of them are from around here. We were going to meet them at Bear Lake to bring in the . . . um, bring in the New Year," Chip said, his face showing several different emotions.**

**"Brought it in good, didn’t we?" Lee asked, biting his lip as Julia taped the bandage to his back and then wrapped strips of gauze around his chest to make sure it stayed put.**

**"Yeah," Chip agreed glumly. "This isn’t exactly what Nikki figured on when she said she would accept whatever dangers came with my job."**

**"Sorry," Lee murmured, feeling keenly the fact that Chip had been placed in harm’s way because of him. Again. And was it over yet? He had no way of knowing.**

**"It’s not your fault, Lee. Hartsfield made his choices years ago. And besides, he screwed up this time," Chip said with a wry grin.**

**"Huh?" Lee asked, surprised. Chip’s comment woke him up even more. "What d’you mean?"**

**"He could have picked a place and time when there wouldn’t have been witnesses. Where you would have been found dead by an unknown assailant heaven only knows when. He’d have been Scot free and no one the wiser."**

**"After we get a clean shirt on you, Lee, I’m going to put your arm in a sling," Julia broke in. "I think the arm needs to be immobilized to help keep the back muscles from aggravating your wound."**

**He nodded. This time there wasn’t any reason to leave his arm free. He wasn’t going anywhere. "Thanks." He turned back to Chip. "’spect half the state thinks we’re cop killers." He was irritated at his inability to enunciate. Were his vocal cords attached to his back?**

**"I didn’t see the news report," Don added. "But I did get enough from Bro. Mortensen last night to know that is kind of what people heard and are believing."**

**"But I saw what happened and I believe I have the proof that says it was self-defense," Chip replied. "Anyway, that cop killer stuff will unravel as soon as they figure out that Hartsfield and his crony weren’t real cops."**

**"Proof?" Lee asked, confused. "What proof?" Julia and Don were helping him on with the clean flannel shirt. It was a little too big, but it was warm and soft. He grimaced at the pain that every little bit of movement was giving him, but it was far less than before. When the shirt was on and buttoned, Julia fixed the sling for his arm. The thick terry robe was placed around his shoulders. Lee yawned and blinked. So tired.**

**"Why don’t we go into the living room where it’s warmer," Farnsworth suggested. "And we can talk. I would really like to know just what happened up there. After being with you two men for the past little while, I believe you're telling me the truth."**

**"’Preciate that," Lee replied. He slowly got up, holding on to the edge of the kitchen table to control the sudden wash of dizziness that passed over him. Don stayed by his side, for which Lee was intensely grateful.**

**"You can relax on the couch, Lee," he said. "The kids have fixed the hide-a-bed for both of you."**

**Lee thought about sleep, the couch and how tired he was and then he remembered that someone was supposed to be coming. Not an ambulance, but a neighbor, he thought they had said. His thoughts ran like squirrels in cages, each one gibbering at the same time, confusing and frantic. Would it be the neighbor, or someone Hartsfield had hired? When they came, would the ambulance crew be legit? How extensive was Hartsfield’s network? How many people did he have working for him? Who else beside that other guy was under his employ? Were he and Chip really safe? Were these people safe? But what could he do about it in this condition? Chip looked ready to drop. Lee felt ready to drop. "Don’t think I’d be comf’ble there, Don," he finally said as they walked into the warm and cozy living room. There was a large couch, the bed already pulled out and made up for them. "One of th’ kitchen chairs."**

**"You didn’t look any too comfortable in the one you were sitting in," he said, incredulous.**

**"Backwards," was all he said, trying hard not to give in and curl up on the bed right now.**

**Don nodded and had one of the children go back in and get a chair. Julia followed him with a pitcher and glasses and a curious look on her face. She placed them on the end table next to one of the couches and motioned for Mark to place the chair next to it. Chip plopped down on the side of the hide-a-bed nearest to Lee and watched him settle on the chair. "You sure you don’t want my company, Lee?" he asked, his eyes showing their concern.**

**Crane shook his head and leaned over the back of the chair, his chin resting on the top rung, watching the fire. He sighed, and then reached for the very enticing glass of water.**

***********

**Chapter 9**

**Despite the folded afghan draped over the back of the chair, Lee Crane felt the hard edge of the wooden chair back digging into his Adam’s apple again and he came to more full wakefulness-again. A quick scan showed that the two younger children were gone. Muted noise in the basement told him where they most likely were. Don Farnsworth and the two older boys were also gone. Apparently, they had gone out to the barn or wherever they did farm chores during the day. He hadn’t even heard them leave. Lee could hear the only slightly muted chugging of the diesel generator outside and briefly thought of his training on diesel-powered boats. Chip lay curled up asleep on the rollaway he and Julia had tried to get Lee to sack out on. Butch sat at the foot of the bed, whining softly in his sleep. Probably the rabbit that got away.**

**"How are you feeling, Lee?"**

**"Better, thanks." He stared into the fire, felt the warmth on his face. The chill at his back made him shiver slightly.**

**"Captain, you really could get more comfortable on the couch, even with your wound," Julia said softly from the floor in front of him. "Certainly better than sitting on that chair." She was now sitting on the beanbag chair vacated by her oldest. Lee suspected that the plan between the husband and wife was for one of them to stay with he and Chip in case…. In case of what, Lee didn’t have the energy to guess. Despite the fact that the farm couple had said they believed what they had told them of the events of the past almost twenty-four hours—there still had to be some caution. The children, as Julia had pointed out earlier.**

**"Maybe," he said non-commitally.**

**She paused, only studying him for a while before she spoke again. "Captain, I know you are struggling to stay awake when you need to be in bed. Why?"**

**"Struggling?"**

**"I believe you and Chip were very up front with us this morning, but now you’re not. Why don’t you want to go to sleep? Your body definitely craves it-needs it. You're not doing yourself any good...." Again she studied him, and then something seemed to startle her. "Are you worried that Hartsfield might have more operatives out here?" she asked, almost tentative.**

**Lee grimaced, knowing she was right, but not knowing how to answer her at first. Instead, he stiffly reached for the glass sitting on a little table within reach. It was empty. He didn't remember finishing it. All night, all day he had been so thirsty, most likely a result of blood loss. It had seemed, at first, as though he couldn’t get enough. Wryly, Lee figured he’d have to use the head soon.**

**"Let me get you some more, Lee," Julia said, starting to get up.**

**"No, don’t worry about it. Of course, if you had some coffee," he suggested.**

**She smiled and shook her head. "No, and even if we had, it wouldn’t be good for you, especially in your condition."**

**"I know. And as to your question . . . Yeah, I’m worried."**

**"But he’s dead, the other man was injured. Surely you’d be safe now."**

**That was a good point, still…. "You never know in that business."**

**"I remember the incident in the People’s Republic recently, so I suppose you know a great deal about ‘that business,’ too, don’t you?"**

**"Yes," he murmured. Some of that ‘ONI business’ still continued to haunt him, even during those times he had been inactive in it. Some of the behaviors, emotions, thoughts and dreams. "Sometimes more than I care to." He recalled a few of his last missions. "Hartsfield fooled ONI for the good part of a year. He was very good." She didn’t say anything. Lee continued to stare into the flames, letting his eyes un-focus and the bright orange and yellow flames fill his consciousness.**

**"You never said why Hartsfield was after you yesterday," she said. "Not really." Then she paused and added, "Of course, if you don’t want to talk about it…."**

**"No, it’s okay," Lee assured her. "Hartsfield was uncovered."**

**"By you?"**

**"No, not really." As succinctly as he could, because even talking seemed tedious, Lee explained what had happened two years previously.**

**Julia’s eyes grew large, listening to him. "I’m so sorry about your mother, Lee."**

**Lee rested his arm on the chair rung and then rested his head on his arm. "That’s probably why it appeared as though I wantonly killed him." And he had to admit, this had been one death he had not felt too badly being responsible for.**

**"No, I would say that it would explain why you didn’t stop to negotiate with him," Julia replied decisively.**

**Lee just gazed at her without answering.**

**"Do you really think he might have others working for him—posing as cops or ambulance drivers?" she prodded.**

**Lee raised an eyebrow. Did he really believe that? He answered himself almost immediately. Yes, or he wouldn’t be forcing his body to remain on alert, or sitting and worrying about it. How many operatives would Hartsfield gather for a job like this? Lee wondered if he was being overly paranoid? Or stupid? "I don’t know. But, yes, it’s possible," he admitted. Then he smiled softly. "Ever thought of being a psychologist? You’re good. You pulled stuff out of me that I haven’t allowed professionals to dig out." And it was true. He didn’t know why he had told her about his mother’s death and the other things that happened during that time over two years ago.**

**She chuckled softly. "MS, Psychology, BS, sociology, Utah State University, classes of ’65 and ‘63," she said. Lee gaped at her, but before he could say anything, she continued. "Thank you, Lee. I was wondering if I still had the knack. Not that I was trying to ‘practice’ on you." She also reassured him with a smile. "I left my field for an even tougher job—that of mother. No regrets. However, I’m taking refresher courses here and there so I can get back into the field when the kids are out of high school. If nothing else, it will help pay for their college tuition."**

**"You’ll be very good at it." His admiration for her rose considerably. He slowly, stiffly stood up. The chair wasn’t comfortable anymore—if it ever had been. He felt slightly dizzy and hung on for a moment. Then he thought he heard something buzzing, and wondered if it was in his head.**

**Julia was up out of her chair in an instant. "You taking me up on the offer to rest on the bed?"**

**Lee felt the room balance before answering. "Probably—after you direct me to the head . . . uh, bathroom."**

**She gave directions, accompanied him to the door and waited outside while he took care of his business. She walked back with him, this time to the bed and knelt beside it while he sat down on the edge.**

**Chip, who had been sprawled comfortably on the bed before, was now sitting up, looking at both of them. "Decided to join me?" was his first comment. Then, "I don’t think there’s a chance in hell that Hartsfield had anyone else working for him, but I’ll take the next watch anyway."**

**"You were listening?"**

**"Of course. How could I sleep with you beating the bulkheads yakking the way you were," he said with a smile. "I was wondering why you didn’t hit the sack earlier."**

**"Thanks, Chip." Lee realized he was rapidly losing the fight to stay awake, no matter what his paranoia’s were. Chip moved over a little more and Lee carefully, with Julia’s help, settled as comfortably as he could. The muscles protested vehemently, feeling hot as well as painful, but soon he was lying down, and Julia pulled a blanket up over him.**

**His eyelids closed; the bed felt wonderful. The last thing he thought of was how vulnerable they all were, but even that drifted into nothingness. Chip had the conn and would take care of anything that came up.**

**Chip swung his legs over the side of the couch. "You really are good," he murmured, trying not to wake Lee. Not that he figured he could have right now. "To get him to tell you that much…." He could see her blush in the snow-enhanced glare through the front window. "I, uh, appreciate everything you’ve done for us," Chip told her as he watched Crane settle into a very deep, and for the most part restful sleep. Lee looked flushed and Chip figured that his friend was developing a fever. "It was very hard for him during that time," Chip added. Lee moaned softly and then sighed. Chip wondered when anyone was going to get through. He also wondered when he would be able to get through to Nikki.**

**A knock startled him and caused Butch to raise his head and woof softly. Then the old dog got up and padded to the back door. The lights flickered and finally stayed on. Lee continued sleeping. Julia got up and followed the dog. Chip just stayed where he was. If this was one of Lee’s hypothetical bad guys, it wouldn’t matter what he did. If not, then getting up and following Julia wouldn’t help any. He listened intently and heard a booming male voice talking to Julia. Sounded friendly enough. They talked for a while.**

**Finally, a tall, heavy-set man followed Julia into the living room. His hair was salt and pepper and Chip got the impression of someone about Admiral Nelson’s age. The man’s sapphire blue eyes studied him intently but there was no malice in them. Chip figured that Julia had given them the okay with this guy.**

**"Chip," Julia said. "This is Jim Mortensen. He came over from his place to check on us; to make sure we were all right."**

**They had told him this would happen, but he hadn’t quite believed them. Chip raised his eyebrows in amazement, impressed. "Commander Chip Morton," he said, slowly getting up and extending his hand. His joints still ached. Mortensen took his hand and grasped it in a tight grip. Chip sucked in a painful breath and the man let go immediately.**

**"Sorry, Commander, I guess you’d still be feeling the effects of being out in that storm all night. I should have realized; I’ve been out enough in it this afternoon."**

**"No need to apologize, sir. As you said, I’m feeling a little of the effects, but you also have a very healthy grip." Chip rubbed his fingers absently before sitting back down.**

**"I’ll get you both some hot cider," Julia said. "Don and the boys will be in shortly." She headed into the kitchen.**

**Thundering footsteps echoed on the staircase coming from the basement and the two younger teens blew into the room. They began to call out their greetings to the visitor, everything prefaced in ‘Brother Mortensen,’ but Julia from the kitchen, and Mortensen quickly quieted them. They nodded, waved and headed back down to the basement. Chip figured they were playing some kind of game.**

**"So what is the media saying about us now?" Chip asked warily. "Or have you had a chance to see any television?"**

**"I have, just before I headed up here, and there’s apparently been nothing about the whole affair since last night. Like someone put a lid squarely on the whole thing," Mortensen said. He shrugged. "News people aren’t getting anything from your boss, either, it would seem."**

**"Admiral Nelson?" Chip asked. Somehow, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Flying Sub wasn’t circling overhead right now; or at least at the nearest airport.**

**Mortensen nodded and looked at Lee sleeping soundly on the roll-a-way. "Your friend? Captain Lee Crane, I believe the news said last night. Same guy that got in the tangle overseas earlier this month?"**

**"Yes."**

**"The news reports said one of you might have been hurt. Obviously it was him," the man said.**

**"Yes, he was. I’m hoping an ambulance can get out here soon . . . if you could get word to them."**

**"Julia and Don told you about my short wave?" Mortensen asked. Chip nodded and the older man continued. "The snow is beginning to moderate some, although the wind has picked up. Still, plows should be getting out this way before dark," Mortensen replied. "I’ll get going soon and get word to the sheriff’s office. They’ll send out some help."**

**Julia handed both of them a mug with steaming cider. Chip let the heat soak into his fingers before even attempting to drink any. Mortensen was right; he still was feeling some effects from their night out in the snow. Hopefully that would alleviate soon.**

**"I’d invite you to our late lunch, Jim, but Captain Crane does need medical attention," Julia said as she turned to the kitchen. "I can fix you a to-go bag with some of our New Year’s Eve goodies, if you and your wife would like them."**

**"Thanks, I would appreciate that, if you think you can spare it. But you’re right. I do need to get back home and get the word out as quickly as I can," Mortensen said. He got up and nodded to Chip, who had started to get up, too. "No, don’t bother, Commander. You deserve to relax after coming over those mountains on foot _and_ in a storm, to boot. I’ll make sure someone gets up here as soon as they can." He smiled softly and continued. "Apparently you Navy boys can navigate on land as well as at sea." Chip had to smile. "And Julia says she believes that you two aren’t what you were made out to be yesterday on the news. I trust her judgment. I hope everything goes all right for you both."**

**"Thank you, sir," Chip replied. "Oh, when you have contacted someone about Lee, could you also get in touch with my wife and let her know I’m okay?" he asked, handing the man his wife’s number in that Bear Lake cabin.**

**"Sure thing, Commander. I’d be happy to." The man breezed out as quickly as he had blown in. Morton sipped his cider and felt the heat slide down his throat.**

**The living room began to fill with smells of cooking bacon and frying hash browns. Chip felt his stomach grumbling and got up to see if there was anything he could do to help his hostess. She sent him packing with plates and utensils for the dining room table. To his relief, Lee continued to sleep. When Don and the boys came in they took over for him and he sat watching Lee as the family finished preparations for their breakfast/lunch. Soon he was being called to the table where scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and hash brown potatoes were steaming in large serving bowls and plates. At first the only sound was that of everyone enjoying his or her meal. But soon the family began talking, the kids answering questions about some activity that had been held before the storm, the depth of the snow, and then about what Chip and Lee did for a living.**

**"You must have some interesting adventures on board your submarine. I’m not sure I could work in an enclosed place like that," Don said.**

**Chip smiled. "Not a lot of people can. Of course, _Seaview_ has a bit more room than a normal boat. I feel a sense of freedom when I’m in the Gray Lady, but I know that others have felt confined, even claustrophobic." At that the kids peppered him with numerous questions, only allowing him enough time to answer and eat before asking more questions.**

**Lee came blearily awake while everyone was still at the dining room table. Even Chip was sitting with the family. Everyone was eating with gusto and occasionally talking in low, happy voices. Lee smelled the bacon, egg and toast smells, and felt his stomach protesting, rumbling menacingly.**

**Chip noticed his wakefulness immediately. "How you feeling, pal?"**

**"Sore as . . . uh, sore," he muttered. "But hungry. Any chance…?" he began, but knew immediately that he wouldn’t get any. He’d had enough experience to know that. Still….**

**"I’m sorry, Lee. You know the routine," Chip replied in great sympathy. "After you get that bullet out…."**

**Sighing, Lee simply grumbled, "Yeah, I know. Jell-O, broth and Popsicles. And to think I left a perfectly good burger in the car." He tried to sit up, but the muscles were too painful, he felt too stiff, too weak to accomplish more than a gasping moan. He sank back on the pillow.**

**Chip was at his side before anyone else could get out of their chair. "Julia has some of that warm broth right now. I’ll also get you something to drink. You just stay put."**

**Crane nodded. He could see a little out the living room window and noticed that snow was still coming down . . . or was it just blowing around? It was hard to tell and he didn’t feel like trying.**

***********

**Chapter 10**

**It was hard to know whether the snow was coming from the clouds or being recycled by the wind. Chip shivered as he gazed out the living room window, then looked over his shoulder at the injured man on the sofa bed. Lee had slept most of the afternoon and he seemed to be more feverish now. Mortensen had promised he would contact someone. Morton looked at his watch. It had been three hours. Then he looked back out the window. Even by standards of back home, this had been more than a snowstorm. It was a blizzard. This was a hunker-down-and-stay-inside type of storm. Bigger than the weatherman had said it would be, bigger than anything anyone could remember. No one could be expected to be out in this. And yet…. And yet, he continued to hope that someone could get through before dark.**

**Chip turned and walked back to the fireplace, sitting on the hearth and letting the heat bake his backside. Edgy, he walked over to the bed where Lee slept restlessly, murmuring in his sleep. It was nothing really intelligible, a word here or there, but that it indicated events in the past was a given. Occasionally, Chip could figure out the references. They’d been through a lot together; seen a lot; saved each other’s butts often. Now, however, there wasn’t a blessed thing he could do, except sit by the sidelines and worry.**

**"Quit pacing," came the muttered growl.**

**"Lee?"**

**"I’m okay," Lee responded, opening his eyes and glaring at him. There was a slight sheen of sweat, but still Crane shivered, another indication of fever.**

**"Uh, huh, and the sun is shining," Chip retorted, smiling to offset his anxiety.**

**Lee turned his head toward the large picture window. "Oh, yeah? Liar."**

**"So are you."**

**Lee sighed. "I’m tired of laying here." He tried to sit up, but just didn’t have enough strength. Chip helped him and soon Lee leaning back against the couch watching the same snow with which Chip had been so irritated.**

**"Reminds me of the ocean in a way," Lee murmured watching the wind push the snowflakes into cold, tiny projectiles.**

**"Oh?" Chip asked, seeing an analogy, but still wanting Lee’s version. Besides, it reassured him in a strange sort of way to hear his commander and friend talking lucidly.**

**"Can’t tame it, can’t control it. Free, unfettered . . . beautiful, powerful and . . . deadly…."**

**Chip studied Lee and didn’t see any particular morbidity in the comment, only observation built upon experience. "Yeah, it is." He sighed, then realized it would only aggravate Lee more. He was right.**

**"Why don’t you go out and pester the cows," the injured man growled. Almost immediately he shivered and pulled the covers closer around him. "Don’t worry, someone will get here when they can." He grimaced slightly as sharp pain shot across his shoulders and down his back. He forced himself to adopt a calm face when Chip looked anxious. "The storm won’t last forever."**

**"It’s already lasted about six hours longer than the weathermen said, according to Julia," returned Chip.**

**"Chip, quit worrying! I’ll be okay." Yawning, he continued, his voice dragging, "Need to do something for Don and Julia…. I’ll stay put. Won’t even try to go to the head."**

**Chip did feel restless. And he also felt the need to try to repay Don and Julia Farnsworth for their hospitality, too. However, he didn’t want to leave Lee alone. Maybe one of the kids could keep an eye on him. If they could be spared, that is. If not, then he’d only stay a little while. A very little while. It would give Lee the opportunity to get some more sleep, too. "Okay, for a bit. You want some more of the broth or some more water?"**

**Lee shook his head and gazed at the fire. Then he yawned again. "Be fine," he murmured.**

**"I’ll be back shortly," Chip assured his friend. Lee just nodded. When he walked through the kitchen, he saw the Farnsworth girl working at the stove.**

**She turned and smiled shyly at him. "I thought it would be nice to fix some herbal tea for you and Captain Crane," she said, her voice soft.**

**Chip remembered her name, Leesa. This was the first full sentence she had uttered to either of them. "That sounds great," he replied quickly, not totally sure that it was. He hadn’t had herbal tea before. Of course, it might just be the best thing for Lee. "Could you do me a favor and occasionally check on my friend? He’s probably back asleep by now." He paused, noticing the girl’s abject and . . . what was it, adoring gaze? "I’m going out to see if your dad could use a bit of help."**

**"Oh—all right," she said, glancing toward the living room. Although there was some disappointment on the girl’s face, she didn’t seem too horribly upset to be doing that chore.**

**"Thanks, Leesa." He pulled on his boots and then buttoned his coat. Chip drew on the gloves as he headed for the outer door. The wind almost jerked the door out of his hand. He was tempted to just go back in. Looking up, Chip saw that there were spots of dark blue between the banks of golden clouds. He glanced at his watch. It was five o’clock. No wonder it looked darker outside. Chip felt the frustration build again as he waded through the drifting snow to the barn. There would be no way for anyone to get out here at night, even if the wind stopped blowing the snow right this minute.**

**Lee woke up with the slightly prickly feeling of someone watching him. Someone was. It was the girl—he couldn’t remember her name. She was sitting in the chair he had vacated earlier with a mug in her hands and curiosity in her eyes.**

**Suddenly she seemed to realize that he was awake and gazing back at her. "Oh, um, I wasn’t sure if you might want some warm herbal tea, Captain Crane."**

**"I’ve never had any, but if it’s warm . . . yes, please," he replied, a bit of amusement feeling its way through the pain and lethargy.**

**She leaned closer and tentatively held out the mug. "Um, can you….?"**

**Lee smiled, nodded and reached for the mug. Then he realized that his hand was shaking. She noticed it, too, but had the good graces not to say anything. With a frown, he asked, "How full is it?"**

**She pulled it back and looked inside, then blushed. "It’s kinda full." She paused and then added, "I can hold it for you until it’s not too heavy for you." Still she hesitated.**

**"I promise I won’t bite." He leaned the scant amount forward that his abused body would allow and waited. She stared at him, blushed again and then held the mug to his lips. It was not too warm, it had a pleasant flavor and felt good going down. He drank about a third of the contents before he motioned to her and pulled back. "That’s not bad."**

**She smiled shyly. "It’s my favorite. Lemon mint." She paused again. "Do you want some more?"**

**Part of him wanted the whole thing, but the rest of him was urging him to take it easy, especially his stomach, which was gingerly processing what had recently come its way. He just shook his head. "A little later…." Now it was his turn to feel embarrassed. "I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name."**

**"Leesa, sir," she replied quickly.**

**"We’re not on the _Seaview_, you don’t have to ‘sir’ me."**

**"Oh, well, I thought since you are the captain…." she said hesitantly.**

**"But we’re not on my boat."**

**She nodded. "I was listening earlier today when Chip, uh, Commander Morton was telling about what you and he did . . . uh, usually."**

**Lee didn’t know if this girl thought he was going to bite her, die on her or . . . or what? "What else did Chip tell you?"**

**"Well, he was talking mostly to Mom and Dad, but I listened. It’s kinda warmer here when the weather is so cold outside, so I stayed by the fire, and . . . well, I listened."**

**"And?"**

**"Did you really kill that man in Sardine Pass?"**

**She appeared horrified by the prospect that he might have killed a man. "Leesa, I shot a man who was about to shoot me," he said as gently as he could. Lee took a deep breath and felt the muscles protesting in his back, but he ignored them. Where the hell could he begin with the whole affair? And how deep to go with it? How far back?**

**"But couldn’t you shoot him or something without killing him; I mean just in the leg or something?"**

**She had been watching too many action movies, he thought, stifling a yawn. "Leesa, understand, I don’t like to kill anyone. I don’t like to see anyone die for any reason." Of course, if he was honest, he would have to admit that he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of satisfaction that he had won the ultimate showdown with Hartsfield. "But those men would have killed Chip or me. A wound to the extremities wouldn’t have stopped him."**

**"One of my friend’s dad said that you shot him for no reason. Today Chip said he had a gun, just like you said. Why would the news have said…."**

**Lee tiredly leaned his head back on the couch, eyes on the ceiling and she stopped. After a moment, he simply said, "Guess other’s didn’t see what Chip and I saw."**

**"Oh. Are you okay?" There was a throat-clearing sound and she continued, "Sorry, I s’pose that was a stupid question."**

**Lee smiled at her. "No, it was a question a caring person would ask. I’m fine . . . under the circumstances."**

**"Does it hurt bad?" she asked and then looked embarrassed again.**

**"Yes, but tolerable."**

**She felt the mug. "Oh, it’s not very warm anymore."**

**"That’s okay. Let me have a bit more. ‘Course, if I have too much I might have to go to the…." This was a pre-teen girl, for crying out loud, he admonished himself. He had made the same mistake before. Then he coughed to cover his embarrassment and quickly regretted it. "The bathroom."**

**"Why do you call a bathroom a head? I mean in the Navy?" she asked, sitting closer to his bed. When he didn’t say anything, she added, "I heard you and Chip talking earlier."**

**Didn’t seem like scintillating conversation and he said as much.**

**She giggled. "That’s okay. I’m just curious. My friend’s dad was in the Army for a long time and she used it once. So I figured it’s a military thing."**

**"Hmm, well, it is, but mostly Navy," he began. "Anyway…. On old sailing ships, the bathroom was in the fore section or head of the ship, built over the bow."**

**She looked puzzled, then her eyes widened and she asked. "Like an outhouse?"**

**Lee wasn’t going to elaborate anymore on the subject then he had to. "Yes."**

**"Eyeew!" Leesa responded, holding her nose.**

**Lee smiled, then he chuckled softly. "That’s why I’m glad I work on a modern boat."**

**"What’s it like on _Seaview_?" Leesa asked, her curiosity peaking. "Can you tell me? It must be very exciting."**

**"You might say that," Lee said, stifling another yawn. "Chip might have to tell you, though," he added with a frown.**

**"That’s okay. Mom said you’d probably be really tired since you lost a lot of blood and you had been out in the cold so much."**

**Lee nodded, wishing ironically that he was in sickbay with Doc fussing over him. At least he’d be up and around more quickly….**

**=====================**

**Chip helped the youngest boy, Tommy, pitch hay for the cows that had been milked already. The odor of cow dung reminded him of bilge, only worse. The hay offset it, though and they were soon done. Julia had already gone in to start dinner, so he didn’t worry as much about Lee as he had before. Still, it would have been good if someone had gotten through before dark. He could see that the sun had set. When he and Tommy finished and Chip had straightened up, easing his sore back muscles, they walked out of the barn. Butch followed, floundering through deep snow that was no longer being whipped about by the wind. Chip looked up and saw some stars winking at him. He and the boy tramped through the snow and up the stairs, Chip almost barking his shin on the first step that was hidden by snow.**

**Then he saw something in front of him. No, it was a reflection in the glass of the door. Chip looked over his shoulder and felt his jaw drop. It was a flashing blue light and it was coming slowly, but it was coming his way. He scrambled up the steps and into the house, stamping the snow off his boots, and then he bounded through the kitchen. "Someone’s coming," he called to Julia and Leesa as he blew through.**

**"I knew someone would," she responded, but Chip was already in the living room.**

**Lee was asleep, but roused when Chip dashed in. "Mmm?"**

**"Someone’s coming," he repeated.**

**"Good," Lee murmured groggily. "Don’t forget to pick up your laundry."**

**Chip chuckled at the reference to their academy days. "No, help’s coming, Lee. Police, paramedics—someone. Not on a snowmobile, either."**

**Lee came more fully awake. "’Bout time. Ready to get to a hospital…."**

**Chip was astonished, but as much as Lee sometimes seemed to try to avoid sickbays and hospitals, he hated being down for the count even more.**

**"….and get well enough to be allowed decent food. Been hell being here and smelling Julia’s good cooking."**

**"I can imagine," Chip concurred.**

**Then Lee’s eyes darkened. "Watch them, Chip. We gotta make sure they’re on the up and up."**

**Chip nodded solemnly.**

**A few minutes later, an all-terrain vehicle had pulled up on the road that ran between the barn and the back door and stopped. Shortly after that, two policemen and a doctor were walking through the kitchen and into the living room. The cop in front studied him, but didn’t pull his gun or make any demands. He and his partner simply followed the doctor and stood waiting by the couch/bed. They were all a bit astonished when Chip asked for identification, but they complied. Julia recognized one of policemen as well and that satisfied Chip and Lee.**

**The doctor gazed at Chip for a brief moment. "Can I assume that you are in pretty good shape?"**

**Chip raised an eyebrow. Not what he expected from a medical professional, but whatever. "Yes. Feet and hands were sore and stiff for a while, but no problem now. It’s Lee who…."**

**"Yes, I can see that, but I needed to ask." He turned his attention to Lee, kneeling by the bed.**

**"Glad you could make it, Doc," Lee said slowly.**

**"That was the easy part," the doctor replied. "It’s getting you out of here that’s going to be fun."**

**"Commander Morton, we’d like to ask you a few questions," one of the policemen asked. Chip reluctantly turned away from Lee and the doctor and followed the cops into the dining room.**

**********

**Chapter 11**

**The first part of the ride to Logan seemed interminable, because where the main road had been scraped, snow had blown back over it. Still, Chip was impressed with how quickly a storm of this magnitude had been tackled. He was also amazed at how clear it was once they reached Hyrum, a place on his map that he knew was halfway between the county seat of Logan, and the little town of Paradise. Lee had been asleep almost from the time they had gotten in the large all terrain vehicle, his head against Chip’s shoulder. It had been a bit crowded, but despite Chip offering to stay behind, the doctor had refused, insisting that he might have injuries not apparent at the moment. The policemen had not been too keen on his idea, either. So he, Lee and Dr. Maxwell, who thankfully was not a large man, occupied the back seat.**

**Chip looked down at his left wrist, encircled in a steel handcuff, the other around Lee’s right wrist and frowned. The officer in charge, Sgt. John Olsen, had indicated that there was enough evidence to tell them that something was funny about the whole thing, but until the detectives could straighten everything out, there was procedure to follow. At least they would be warm, and no one would be shooting at them. Most important, Lee would get the care he needed so badly.**

**They drove up to the hospital emergency entrance and the cuffs were taken off. Lee woke up enough to protest the doctor’s orders for him to be placed on a gurney. The argument was only half-hearted, and soon both of them were inside the hospital. Chip sat next to one of the cops in the waiting room. There was a woman and man with a sick toddler, an older woman who appeared feverish, resting her head against her husband’s shoulder. A middle-aged man sat by himself, cradling his arm and leaning over in pain. They would all go in before he would. Lee, having a gunshot wound, superceded every one of them. At the moment, everyone not sick stared at him for a moment and then became obvious in their attempts not to look obvious in their study of he and his escort. Chip almost laughed, it was so ludicrous.**

**As soon as he knew that Lee was being taken care of by the doctors, he turned to his ‘guard.’ "I need to call my wife. She’s probably sick with worry."**

**The policeman, the junior partner named Thompson, who was about his age, hair light and eyes like Lee’s, studied him for a moment and then nodded. "You can reverse the charges, I suppose." They got up and walked over to a pay phone hanging near the outer entrance. The cop stood between him and the doorway.**

**Chip turned to him again. "I, uh, had all my change in my backpack and my cash in my wallet." He paused a couple of seconds to let the statement sink in. "You and your partner have both locked away in your vehicle. I can charge it to the Institute, but I need a dime for the initial call."**

**"Sure thing, Commander. I think I can spare a dime for a phone call to let your wife know you’re going to be late tonight," Thompson said with a sudden smile.**

**It was like ice had been broken for the other man. Chip thanked him and put the coin in the phone. After talking with the operator and getting all the wherewithal’s taken care of, he nervously heard the phone ring on the other end. It was picked up just at the second ring.**

**"Hello?" he heard the anxious voice on the other end.**

**"Nikki, it’s me," he began. That was as far as he got.**

**"Chip!! Oh, thank God, it’s you! How are you? Are you all right? Where are you?"**

**He could hear the tears in her voice and the quavering relief there, too. Suddenly feeling the prickling of tears in the corners of his eyes along with the lump that had formed in his throat upon hearing her voice, he blinked several times to get control of himself. He did but found the other side of the pendulum, a sudden euphoria to be almost as hard to control. Finally, "Darling, I can answer all of your questions if you pause and take a breath." Then he sighed. "You don’t know how wonderful it is hearing your voice, Nikki."**

**"I didn’t think I would ever hear you again, Chip," she said and he heard the catch in her throat. "Oh, Chip," she finally sighed. "You don’t spare me even on dry land."**

**He paused at her last statement and then he began to chuckle. She laughed with him.**

**"I love you so much," he said and realized that she had said the same thing at the same time. They laughed again.**

**Finally when he paused for breath, Nikki said, "Well?"**

**"Well, what?" he asked, puzzled.**

**"You said you were going to answer my questions." Before he could say anything else, she added, "I am assuming that since you are talking to me, you are not the one who was shot." There was relief in her voice alongside the worry. "How is Lee?"**

**"He’ll be okay. We’re at the Logan Hospital. He’s being looked at right now." He took in a deep breath. "Are you still at Bear Lake?"**

**The relief and joy flooded her voice. "Yes, but it might as well be the other side of the moon. It was too late to come through by the time I heard what had happened. And the canyon is still impassable to normal traffic."**

**"My darling Nikki, since when have you been normal?" he asked, a grin on his face.**

**She giggled softly and said, "You know what I mean!"**

**"I know."**

**"As soon as the plows clear it, we’ll be up there."**

**"Can’t wait to see you. It seems like an eternity in the mountains." Then a thought struck him. "Have you contacted the admiral lately?"**

**"Yes, why?"**

**"I bet he’s trying to get out here in the Flying Sub."**

**"Yes, but he was delayed at the Salt Lake Airport because of the winds."**

**"The winds aren’t blowing here. Have him go to Bear Lake when he can and then you two can fly into the local airport. I was told there was one that could accommodate a small jet. And assure him that Lee and I are all right."**

**"I’ll do that, darling." She paused. "I miss you so much."**

**"Love you…." Chip let his voice trail off, wishing she were here right now.**

**"I love you, too. I’ll get there as soon as I can."**

**"I guess you’ll have to get me through the local police department."**

**"I’ll find you, Chip. Don’t worry."**

**He laughed softly. "I’m not."**

**"I’ll see you as soon as I can."**

**"Okay," he said, not knowing what else to say except, "I love you," again. He slowly hung up the phone.**

**"Glad you got a hold of her," Thompson said.**

**"Me, too," Chip murmured as they returned to their seats to wait.**

**Lee awoke to smells that told him where he was, and the sound of voices that were very familiar to him. Chip was talking to the admiral, discussing something—he couldn’t tell what it was. His entire left side felt disconnected from the rest of him. There was some sense of dull discomfort but it seemed swathed or muted. Bringing his mind into increased awareness felt more like he was putting a jigsaw puzzle together than remembering the how’s and why’s of his presence in a hospital. It was too hard and Lee chose instead to simply listen, while he let his body and mind come together of their own accord.**

**"I sincerely hope that since the holidays are officially over, everyone will coordinate and get Lee and I off the hook," Chip grumbled.**

**"So do I," Nikki agreed. "I would really like some private time with you without the police escort."**

**"With ONI providing their input and other agencies working on this, it’s not going to be long." That was the admiral.**

**"Good," Lee mumbled. The room went silent for several seconds. Cautiously, Lee opened his eyes and blinked to get everyone in focus. The far wall was bathed in bright light, which he suspected was coming through the window behind him. Sun…. Sudden realization flooded through him and he remembered the shoot-out with Hartsfield, the trip over the mountains, the time at the farm. He didn’t remember how he had arrived here, though, even though he tried to put a memory back in for that one. It was not that important. Apparently some time had passed for Nikki and the admiral to get here. "How long…?"**

**"It’s the afternoon of January second. Sunday," Nelson said quickly, knowing what Lee was after. "You’ve been a bit out of it for most of the day, lad, which didn’t seem to unduly alarm your surgeon or the nurses, but sure worried the hell out of me."**

**"The last thing I remember was night falling . . . at the farm."**

**"Don’t remember the local police showing up with the doctor?" Chip asked.**

**Lee frowned and then shook his head. "Leesa—she’s the last I remember. I was talking to her."**

**"Well, as soon as we got here, they took you into surgery and got that bullet out." At Lee’s questioning look, Chip continued. "Doctor says you should have a full recovery with some therapy after you heal."**

**Lee nodded and then dozed off. When he woke again, the room was only lit with the lights over the bed and sink and there was a food tray on the little table. Chip and Nikki were gone and the admiral was dozing in a chair. The muzziness seemed to be going away and his stomach was telling him of its displeasure at being empty. He studied the two little bowls on the tray and frowned in distaste. Jell-o was in the uncovered one and the other one held broth, no doubt. Bullion deluxe, tastes-like-anything-including-old- shoe-leather flavor. And yellow Jell-o. That was a switch, he thought with wry humor. Usually it was green. He tried to reach for the bowl, but the tray was out of reach. Figured….**

**His stomach clamored even louder but he wasn’t going to wake the admiral. With a sigh, Lee gazed around the room and saw a clock. Six o’clock. What had Chip said? He figured it must be the third of January. Now that he knew what time it was, Lee definitely wasn’t going to disturb Admiral Nelson. He continued to look around as much as his sore back would allow. The admiral was in one of those uncomfortable as hell, vinyl visitor’s chairs, so if he was asleep, he had to be extremely tired.**

**Lee yawned and felt the stirring of disgust. Three days ago, he had energy to burn. He closed his eyes and dozed. Almost immediately, it seemed, he heard the door open and someone quietly slip in. His eyes snapped open immediately and he saw a young, sandy-haired nurse approach his bedside.**

**"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, presumably in deference to the admiral, not him.**

**"Is it the third?"**

**She cocked an eyebrow and then smiled. "Yes, Monday morning."**

**There was a rustling in the chair and then, "How are you doing, lad?"**

**"Fine," was the quick response. "Sorry I woke you up, sir."**

**"Needed to get up and stretch," Nelson responded, doing just that.**

**"So do I," Lee mumbled, feeling the hardness of the bed even through the muted sensations his body was sending him at the moment.**

**"I’m glad you feel that way, Captain, because the doctor wants you up and about as soon as possible," the nurse told him.**

**"Was thinking of getting up and out," Lee elaborated, continuing to watch the nurse as she checked all the things that nurses check.**

**She didn’t say anything for a moment while she took his blood pressure, then, "That, too, might be arranged if you do well today."**

**Lee blinked in surprise, not having expected that response. He quickly recovered though, his mind as well as his body feeling more like itself. "If for no other reason than to get something decent to eat," he growled.**

**She laughed and Lee heard the admiral chuckle. He suddenly saw Chip’s face from behind the nurse’s back and Nikki right next to him.**

**"What’s the matter, Lee, missing that burger you had before all this began?"**

**"Darned straight I am and you mean the one that I only had half of," Lee grumbled.**

**The nurse was chuckling. "We’ll see what we can do for you for dinner, Captain…."**

**"Lee."**

**"Lee, but you have to eat this first," she said, pushing the tray within his reach. "I will be back later this morning to check your dressing and give you a bath." She smiled reassuringly at his sudden discomfiture before leaving.**

**Lee ate the jell-o and eyeballed the broth before deciding, in his increasing awareness, that he really was hungry enough to eat shoe leather in whatever form. Within a short while he had finished the soup and while his stomach told him it was satisfied, past experience dictated that would not last. He looked at Chip. "You get hassled about the shooting?" he asked.**

**Chip shook his head. "They asked questions and a judge allowed a quick bail for both of us. Hundred dollars a piece." Lee’s face must have mirrored his surprise. "With our background and the admiral’s good word, it was pretty quick. Besides, it was Sunday and the judge didn’t want to miss his church meeting, I was told. Signed the papers and my police escort disappeared, presumably to his meeting," Chip explained with a grin.**

**"I suspect that I’ll get visitors before the day is over," Lee mused.**

**"I suspect you will, Lee," the Admiral confirmed. "Because I told them that we were heading for Santa Barbara as soon as you were ready to travel, presumably when you’re released from the hospital." He walked to the window, looked out at the brightness of light reflected off the snow and then returned to Lee’s bedside. "Of course, I had the Institute and ONI provide background information so there shouldn’t be too many questions you have to answer. I also let everyone back in Santa Barbara know how you were doing."**

**"And I turned over my camera to the police the night we arrived here."**

**"Camera?" Lee asked.**

**Chip nodded. "I had the camera around my neck and when Hartsfield got out of the car, I just snapped off a couple of shots. Didn’t even aim. Just hoped for the best. I’ve been told that one of them showed Hartsfield pulling the pistol just before you nailed him. Self-defense."**

**Crane took all that in and then nodded. "Good." Lee found the bed controls and raised the head up higher to allow him to sit up. The bandage pulled and his shoulder smarted, but he ignored the discomfort.**

**Events pretty much transpired as they had been predicted. Lee was interviewed by various police investigators, he walked the corridors, the doctor and nurses came and went and the Farnsworth’s and Chip’s other local in-laws visited him in the afternoon. **

**As evening approached, Lee felt tiredness creep over his body. Already, he had been promised that he would be released from the hospital in the morning and he looked forward to it—even if it was to temporary quarters in a local motel room. That had been part of the release ‘deal.’ The cops wanted to have them around for follow-up questions and the doctor would not release him from his care until later in the week, depending on his condition. Lee smiled. In so many words, he had to continue to be a good boy.**

**It wouldn’t be the first time he and the admiral had shared a room. He continued to stare out of the window overlooking one of the city’s main thoroughfares. It amazed him that in a couple of days, despite the continuing low temperatures, traffic was moving as though there had been no storm. He turned away from the window and the view of sunset gold, snow-capped mountains and walked the short distance to his bed, where he gingerly slid back in, keeping the top of his hospital garb from getting tangled up as he maneuvered. At least he wasn’t attached to IV’s anymore. And he had been given a pair of hospital scrub bottoms.**

**He was alone for the moment and didn’t mind. Nikki and Chip were out having dinner somewhere. Lee hadn’t a clue where the admiral had gone; maybe to check on the Flying Sub. It had caused quite a stir when he had flown in on Sunday, Lee had been told. Bright yellow saucer lands in valley in northern Utah. Lee grinned. From criminals to celebrities in just four days. It had been a harrowing four days, but finally the conclusion was slipping toward some degree of normalcy.**

**It was time for the news, but he wasn’t in the mood. Right now, he was mainly in the mood for a good dinner. It had been promised. He had been a good boy, so to speak. He also knew that the trays were being brought around; he had heard one of the large carts trundling by. Of course, that didn’t mean it would be a ‘good’ dinner. Lunch had been more than broth and Jell-O, but not much more.**

**"Knock, knock!" came Chip’s cheery voice. Nikki was right behind him. And preceding them was a smell that almost had the same effect on him as Pavlov’s bell had on the scientist’s dogs.**

**"What? Where have you been?" he demanded. "I can’t believe that you…." He stopped in mid-sentence, shocked when his executive officer pulled out of a bag, in rapid succession, the largest burger he had ever seen, a large package of French fries and onion rings. Finally, Nikki sat a frosted mug of root beer on his tray. They each had a bag of their own. The admiral breezed in right behind them, his own bag in his hands.**

**Nikki unwrapped the monster burger. "They call it the Big Blue," she informed him.**

**"Blue? Why?" he asked warily, thoughts of blue cheese dressing ruining this monster running through his mind.**

**"Named after the local university. One of the school colors is blue. I was told this little main street corner A & W is even better than the place over the mountain. You get to find out," Chip explained, while unwrapping the burger. "So quit grousing and test the claim."***

**Lee did and when he could only get through half of his huge cheeseburger and not quite a third of his fries and onion rings, he reluctantly placed the uneaten items into the Styrofoam container. With a sorrowful sigh, he closed the lid. "They’re right." He gave Chip a hard stare. "And this burger had better be available for later."**

**"I will guard it with my life, Skipper, until you are ready for the rest," Chip promised in mock solemnity, his right hand raised.**

**"You better," Lee growled, settling back with a contented sigh. His back hurt, he was still feeling lethargy from the meds, and he definitely wanted to be back home, but that was coming, too. He thought of the events in the canyon; how Hartsfield had allowed his anger to fester and grow; had allowed it to consume him.**

**Surprisingly, two plus years ago Lee had wanted to devote his all of his time and energy tracking down the former agent. Instead, he had turned his energies to what he really enjoyed—no—loved the most, working on the Gray Lady with those he cared for the most. And the anger had tempered into the hurt of loss. Even that loss had tempered somewhat into memories of happy times. Hartsfield had tried to destroy him, may have come close, but in the end, he had failed. No, soon Lee would be back on _Seaview._ Soon he would feel the soft, caressing motion of the ocean flowing around him. It gave him a great deal of satisfaction thinking about that future. He lay back and closed his eyes, content.**

***The ‘Big Blue’ really exists and is found in Logan, Utah at a little corner A & W drive-in. IMHO it is better than Maddox burgers, but then I am a graduate of Utah State. Maddox is another place that really exists, just south of Brigham City. Both are considered local ‘landmarks’. BTW Sardine Pass is now a four-lane highway. Mantua also exists and is where my hubby and I were succored last year when our poor car developed brake problems.**


End file.
